


The Squip Enters

by Seluvia



Series: Two-Player Game [5]
Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alpha Jeremy Heere, Alpha Squip, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blow Jobs, Come Eating, Come Marking, Exhibitionism, Human squip, Knotting, Light Angst, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Michael Mell, Recreational Drug Use, Scent Kink, Semi-Public Sex, Subspace, Voyeurism, please know that this will end with the three of them together, they're all around the same age
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:21:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 27,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21915928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seluvia/pseuds/Seluvia
Summary: Two years after the events of Show Up, Slow Down, Jeremy and Michael are working hard and saving for their future. Squip takes an immediate interest in them, but is that a good thing, or are Jeremy and Michael in over their heads? And is Squip really prepared for the reality of having Jeremy and Michael return his attention?
Relationships: Jeremy Heere/Jeremy Heere's Squip, Jeremy Heere/Jeremy Heere's Squip/Michael Mell, Jeremy Heere/Michael Mell, Michael Mell/Jeremy Heere's Squip
Series: Two-Player Game [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1565278
Comments: 105
Kudos: 136





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was super inspired, even though I just finished a story earlier today, so I started the next installment! Much thanks to eternal bro Kuu for helping me decide on the Squip's look for this AU, and to my server peeps in general for being awesome and encouraging!

“I swear I’m fucking quitting.”

“You say that every day, babe. I’m starting to think you don’t mean it.” Jeremy smiles gently and reaches over to straighten Michael’s visor. “It’s just another few months. It was your idea to take a gap year road trip.”

Michael huffs and digs a rag out from under the counter, looking for something to wipe down for the thousandth time. “And I’m an idiot for turning down my moms when they offered to pay for the trip. No, I wanted to be independent, get a job. Now I’m stuck slinging coffee in a corporate prison. This music is making me want to commit a fucking murder.”

Jeremy turns from where he’s been stacking paper cups, glancing sneakily around the cafe before leaning in to press a quick peck to Michael’s frowning lips. “At least we’re here together.”

Before he can get too far, Michael tugs him closer and kisses him again, smiling now. “Fuck yeah, dude. You’re the only thing making this shit bearable.”

Jeremy felt the same, but honestly? He’s always felt like that. Michael had been the only one he could always count on. He would have never made it through high school without Michael by his side. And when Jeremy had presented two years ago, everything had changed for the better. Jeremy still couldn’t believe that he was the one Michael had chosen. A sweet, smart, handsome, funny, amazing omega like him could have had his pick of alphas. And he’d picked Jeremy. Fuck, he’s so lucky.

They haven’t bonded yet, a true Mating something they both feel not quite ready for. But they spend most of Michael’s seasonal heats and Jeremy’s less-frequent ruts together, and practically live together besides, bouncing between Jeremy’s place and Michael’s. Jeremy’s dad and Michael’s moms all seemed to know this was coming, so no one is surprised at the shift in the relationship. After they get back from their trip, they’re probably going to get their own place, that is if they don’t end up living on the university campus when they start school. Jeremy hasn’t decided on a major yet, still not sure what he wants his future to look like. But that’s Future Jeremy’s problem. All Present Jeremy has to do is get through this shift, and it’s almost over.

Jeremy is clearing some cups off a table by the door, balancing them on a tray. He distantly registers the sound of the bell above the cafe’s door jingling merrily as someone enters the shop, but he’s too focused on his tray of dishes to pay much attention to where he’s going.

He only makes it a few steps before he trips over the leg of a chair and bumps into a table, pitching forward. “Woah there, turbo,” says a smooth, deep voice, as two strong hands catch him seemingly out of nowhere. Disaster narrowly avoided, Jeremy straightens up, beet red and falling back into his familiar slouch, tray of dishes rattling quietly as he makes sure his grip on them is secure.

Glancing up at his savior, Jeremy just flushes a deeper red. Of course, he’d have to be rescued from his own clumsiness by the literal embodiment of ‘business chic’. The guy is as tall as him at least, wavy dark hair layered artfully in a short haircut Jeremy is sure cost as much as he makes in a week. Dark eyes, a straight nose, a wide, generous mouth--this dude looks like Keanu Reeves fifteen years ago, all fresh faced and lean, handsome enough to warrant a second, longer look. He’s wearing a suit, such a dark navy blue it’s almost black. No tie, which is a surprise for how clean-cut the rest of him is. Instead, his shirt is open at the collar, a few buttons popped to show a tantalizing hint of chest.

“You do know you’ve been staring at me silently for two solid minutes, right?” Full lips tilt in a smirk, somewhere between teasing and mocking. Mystery man leans in, making a show of checking Jeremy’s nametag. Jeremy can hear the soft inhale, knows the guy is scenting him, and Jeremy returns the gesture before he thinks the better of it, a wave of cool, clean alpha scent making him tingle. Jeremy hasn’t noticed anyone’s scent since he and Michael became an item, but something about this alpha is oddly compelling.

“Is there something I can help you with, _Jeremy?_ ”Not-Keanu’s voice has gone a little rougher, as if he liked what he got from Jeremy’s scent. Like he might want to tuck his face into Jeremy's throat and scent him again.

“Jerry-me?” Jeremy replies stupidly, realizing what he said a second later. “Oh god. I have to…be with the cups now.” He hurries past the dude, into the kitchen in the back of the cafe where customers aren’t allowed. He’s not sure why he reacted like that, tripping over his own tongue like he’s back in senior year and just presented, following his nose and his dick wherever they lead.

It doesn’t matter. He’ll put the dishes in the washer and when he’s done, the guy will have his drink and be long gone. A guy like that definitely has better places to be than sitting in some coffee shop sipping chai and reading the paper. Jeremy zones out for a bit, loading up the dishwasher with mugs and cups, and after a while, he’s forgotten all about the weirdly-hot stranger who kept him from breaking an entire tray of dishes.

Jeremy comes out in a much better mood, nodding at Michael, who is chatting with one of their regulars. He scans the shop to see if anything needs his immediate attention, and stops short. Not-Keanu is still there, sitting at the very same table Jeremy tripped into, drinking a tall iced coffee. He stands up gracefully when he sees Jeremy, taking a moment to straighten his suit jacket.

Crossing the cafe in long strides, the guy pauses at the counter and holds something out to Jeremy. Another whiff of that cold, fresh scent teases Jeremy's nose, his nostrils flaring to get a deeper draw of the addictive smell. “My card,” the man explains, flashing Jeremy a charming smile. “I think I could really help you, Jeremy.”

“Help me?” Jeremy takes the card, looking down at it like he's never seen a business card before. Well, he's definitely never been given one before, he's 19, what the fuck is networking?

SQUIP

Consultant

The bold black lettering on the white card is minimalist, but modern, the kind of card someone would use if they knew they didn't have to worry about using the card to make an impression. The kind of card someone would use if they knew they, themselves, were charismatic and memorable enough to stick in anyone's mind. On the back of the card is a phone number.

“Help me with what?” Jeremy asks.

“Whatever you need, Jeremy. Call me.”

“Wait, I don’t know your name, who do I ask for?”

The guy turns back and tips his head at the paper Jeremy is still holding. “It’s on the card, Jeremy, and I’m almost certain you can read. My name is Squip.”

The guy--Squip, apparently, grabs his coffee off the table, and he’s out the door before Jeremy can think of a single thing to say.

“What was that about?” Michael asks, putting an arm around Jeremy’s shoulder.

Looking down at the card like more information is going to suddenly appear on it, Jeremy just shakes his head. “I can honestly say I have no fucking clue.”

But he can't pretend he isn't curious.


	2. Chapter 2

“Just call him. How long are you gonna stare at that fucking card?” Michael isn’t even looking at Jeremy, eyes focused on the screen where he’s turbo-killing a horde of zombie death cheerleaders. He doesn’t need to look, he can practically hear the wheels turning in his boyfriend’s head, like they’ve been turning for days.

They’re curled up together on the couch in Michael’s basement, Michael’s legs in Jeremy’s lap. Jeremy is staring at the stark white business card on the table in front of him. He’s been telling himself to throw it away for days, carrying it around like any moment he’s going to pitch it into the trash can. “I’m going to get rid of it. He was weird, probably messing with me. Just because he smelled good--”

“Oh shit, you didn’t mention that.” Michael pauses his game and looks at him, a dark brown curl falling to brush his forehead. “Tell me about this sexy creep and his tasty scent, Jer. I need deets. I wasn’t paying attention when I got him his coffee.”

Jeremy huffs at the teasing, reaching over to gently sweep Michael’s wayward curl back into the messy mop he wears his hair in these days. It’s a little longer than it had been a few years ago, and the gently curled ends of his hair really soften his face. It suits him. Every day he gets more attractive, and Jeremy gets to kiss him. How’s that for incredible luck?

“I didn’t mention it because it’s not important. He just. He smelled okay. I mean. Y’know it was nice, he--it was--”

Michael snickers, and Jeremy stops talking with a grimace. “Baby, you are _so_ red right now. He really did something to you, huh Jer?” Michael gets to his knees and straddles Jeremy’s lap, drawing him in for a kiss. “Call him. Set up a meeting. I’ll go with you. Fuck knows I wanna get a better look at him, among other things. Maybe I’ll like what I scent, too.”

Jeremy grew up with the certainty that he’d be a beta when he finally presented. Utterly average, completely unremarkable. When he’d presented as alpha, Jeremy had believed, in the depths of his heart, that he would never be someone’s mate, never be part of a relationship with even one person, let alone the more traditional alpha/omega/alpha relationship. Even though he only knew a few people whose parents conformed to that standard, those relationships were all over the tv, every sitcom boasting an omega surrounded by two doting alphas and a houseful of kids, romantic comedies in theaters showing an alpha couple finding the perfect omega, or an alpha and omega running into a remarkable second alpha who they just couldn’t let go. Jeremy never expected that for himself, even if he secretly wanted it since before he presented. To be so surrounded with love, with support. To devote himself to a relationship like that.

Now, he’s got Michael. Looking back, he’s always had Michael. Jeremy privately thinks that maybe his biology lined up with Michael’s, that he presented as an alpha just so he could be there for Michael. Two years of inhaling Michael’s omega pheromones might have kicked Jeremy face first into alphahood. Crazier shit had happened.

Michael’s soft lips brushing his own bring Jeremy back to the present. “Tell me you’re gonna call him, Jeremy. Even if it doesn’t go anywhere, maybe he’s selling something good. Let’s at least hear him out.”

Jeremy nuzzles Michael’s throat, taking a deep, calming breath of his familiar spicy sweetness, the skin beneath his lips bare and flawless. Someday, he’s going to put a bite mark there, and Michael will put a matching mark on him. But for the first time, Jeremy wonders what it would be like to see a second mark on the other side of Michael’s throat, to wear a second mark on his own.

“I’ll call him. Let’s go hear what he has to say.”

* * *

“Squip?” The intercom in his office landline buzzes to life, a woman’s voice filling the quiet.

“Yes, Doreen?”

“It’s Doris, sir,” his secretary replies tiredly.

Squip knows what her name is. He hasn’t forgotten a name since grade school. But periodically pretending to forget her name tends to inspire a few days of increased work performance, as she tries to impress him enough to stick in his memory. “Of course it is. Did you need something?”

“The young man you told me to clear your schedule for has called. A Jeremy…Heere?”

Squip straightens in his chair and snatches up the phone receiver, holding it to his ear. “When is he coming?” he demands, heart in his throat at the prospect of seeing the awkward alpha again. To help him reach his goals, of course. Squip is just looking forward to having an interesting client. That’s all it is.

“He’ll be coming tonight, sir. After six pm. When we’re closed.” Doris can’t quite keep the question out of her voice. In three years of working for him, she’s never seen him stay late for anyone or anything, nothing coming between him and his precious schedule. Squip has arrived at the same time, taken lunch at the same time, and left the office at the same time every day for three years. So why the sudden change?

“I don’t expect you to stay an additional hour at such short notice,” Squip assures her.

“I’ll stay. I assume this is a special case. It wouldn’t do for him not to have the full experience when he arrives.”

And this is why Squip pays Doris so well. She’s professional and sharp, and fantastic at anticipating Squip’s needs and reading his mood. “Expect a generous bonus for the overtime,” Squip says, by way of thanks, then hangs up. Six o clock. A few hours and he’ll see Jeremy again, and then he can prove to himself that his reaction to Jeremy’s scent was a one time thing, and that his only interest in the man is his business potential.

* * *

“Ho-ly shit,” Jeremy says, craning his neck up at the tall building Squip’s secretary had given them directions to. “Intellitech Genostudies? What the fuck is he doing in here? His card says consultant!” The building is huge, floor after floor of glass and metal, not exactly what he was expecting when he’d been invited to come.

“Well, we’re in the right place.” Michael points at the huge glass window next to an equally huge glass door leading inside, where small black letters proclaim ‘Squip: Consultation and Lifestyle Advancement’. “Come on, Jer. You’re good.”

Michael holds open the door and Jeremy shuffles past him into a huge lobby that looks like it belongs in a hotel more than in a building housing the leading group of scientific researchers in the nation. Together, Michael and Jeremy cross the marble floor to a wide desk, behind which sits a security guard dividing his attention between a bank of monitors and the couple approaching.

“Good evening,” the guard says politely. “May I direct you to your area of business?”

“Uh--wuh?” Jeremy falters, and Michael nudges him gently aside and takes over.

“We have an appointment with…Mr. Squip, I guess?” They never did get a last name.

The security guard types something into a computer, then nods. “Of course, sirs. You’ll find the consulting service on the second floor. Please proceed to the elevators just behind me.”

A second security area is just before the elevators, where another security guard is waiting beside a metal detector, like one would find in an airport. Michael and Jeremy make it through there with minimal fuss, and take the elevator to the second floor, as directed. Jeremy keeps wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans, though he’s not sure why he’s so fucking nervous. It’s just a business meeting. The stakes could not be lower. So why does Jeremy feel like something major is about to change?

They step out of the elevator into a small waiting room. The chairs are plush and soft, there are decorative plants in every corner, soothing instrumental music playing quietly over hidden speakers. The art on the walls reminds Jeremy of the modern art section of a museum, all abstracts and splashes of color that speak of raw emotion dashed onto canvas.

“May I help you, gentlemen?” A woman sitting behind a counter at the far end of the room gives them a welcoming smile. She’s older than them, but not by much, maybe in her late twenties, and she’s lovely in an understated way. Elegant, if Jeremy had to describe her in a word. Behind her is a wall of panels of frosted glass.

“We have an appointment with Squip? Jeremy Heere and Michael Mell?” Jeremy wouldn’t be surprised if they’d somehow been removed from the schedule, that would be just his luck, he didn’t belong in a place like this, there had to be a mistake and Squip would have realized it by now--

“Yes, of course. Here you are. Please have a seat, Squip will be right with you.”

“Oh my god,” Jeremy says under his breath, following Michael over to a pair of chairs. It’s really happening. What it is, Jeremy isn’t sure, but it’s definitely happening. Michael takes his hand, not even hesitating at how clammy it is, and begins rubbing Jeremy’s knuckles with his thumb. It has the intended effect. Jeremy relaxes a little, takes a deep breath, shooting Michael a shaky smile.

Something at the front desk beeps, and the secretary looks up. “Squip will see you, gentlemen. Please proceed through the door.” She presses a button, and one of the frosted glass panels slides open with a soft mechanical whisper, a door appearing in what had seemed to be a solid wall.

“Now _that_ is fucking cool,” Michael says appreciatively. “Star Trek all the way.” 

The second they’re both through the door, it slides shut again. Jeremy can see where there’s a button beside the door that he assumes will open the panel up again. Or he could just throw himself through the glass, in an emergency. If he humiliates himself, which, he can admit, is likely.

“I was starting to think you wouldn’t call, Jeremy.” That same silky voice from the coffee shop brings Jeremy’s attention away from the door, and oh fuck. Oh no. Not-Keanu--that is, Squip, is just as striking the second time around. Squip is wearing a suit again, or at least, most of a suit. He’s draped his suit jacket over the back of his tall black office chair. The button-up white shirt he’s wearing fits him like a second skin, and the sleeves are rolled up, showing off strong forearms. He could snap Jeremy like a twig. Squip gets up from his desk and comes around to meet them, offering Jeremy his hand. “I’m so pleased you did call.”

Jeremy shakes his hand, stomach swooping wildly at the firm, decisive grip and the pleasant strength of Squip’s cool water scent at the end of the day. He’s sweated through whatever cologne he’d no doubt been wearing at the start of the day, and his natural scent is so compelling Jeremy can’t resist a deep breath, drawing Squip’s scent into his lungs with a nearly invisible shiver. Squip offers Michael his hand next, and Jeremy can see Michael’s nostrils flare, then Michael’s eyebrows shoot up, the faintest hint of color flushing his cheeks. So, Michael can smell it, too. Something about Squip is…it’s different.

“You must be the omega I scented on Jeremy at the shop. I didn’t realize who you were while I was ordering my drink. I’m grateful for the opportunity to meet you properly.” Squip pauses a moment, scenting the air, and his mouth curls in a smile that says he can smell how much Michael likes what he sees, what he scents. “Very grateful, Michael.”

The blush on Michael’s cheeks flares deeper, and Michael murmurs something back, Jeremy can’t quite make out what, but Squip nods, and he gestures at the two chairs in front of his desk. “Please, have a seat. Let’s get started.”

Once they’re all seated and comfortable, Squip asks, “Can I get you anything? Water? Coffee?” They both shake their heads, and Squip leans back in his chair, somehow managing to look both casual and intimidating as he regards the two of them.

“I suppose you’re wondering why I invited you here.”

“You’re right,” Michael answers after a glance at his still tongue-tied boyfriend. “What is it you want, exactly?”

Squip’s smile is all teeth, the sharp grin of a predator who just spied his dinner. His dark eyes dance. “I want,” he says in a low voice that makes Jeremy think of dark chocolate and silk sheets, “what you want, Michael. My sole function, you could say, my entire purpose, is to find out exactly what you want most, and help you get it.”

“What I want? In life, or for lunch?”

“Both. I’m full service. But let’s start with your life. What do you want to do, Michael?”

Michael opens his mouth, but Squip holds up a hand. “Bup. No. You’re about to lie to me. Either you think your ambition is embarrassing, or you don’t believe in me enough to tell me the truth. Either way, don’t waste our time. Tell me what you really want,” Squip coaxes, leaning forward and bracing his arms on the desk. Jeremy isn’t the only one whose attention is helplessly drawn to all the skin and muscle Squip is showing off with those rolled up sleeves. “Let me help you, Michael.”

Michael has been grinning a little since they stepped into the office, but he’s all kinds of serious now, staring at Squip silently for a long moment. “Alright. Okay.” Michael drags his fingers through his messy curls and sighs. “I want to design games. But,” he rushes to say, like he’s talked himself out of this a thousand times, “the nearest design school is an hour from here, and the tuition is insane. I doubt my moms would pay for me to make games all day, and there’s no way I can get that kind of cash together.”

“Get me a copy of your high school transcripts. I know someone on the board of admissions for every college, university, and technical institute in the state. Including your design school. In fact…” Squip types for a moment at the computer on his desk. “Mm. I thought so. The Dean of Admissions is an old friend, and has a significant amount of sway over the awarding of the single, highly coveted full-ride scholarship the school hands out each year.”

Michael gapes at him, mouth opening and closing like a landed fish. “My grades aren’t good enough to--”

“Let me worry about that. All you have to do is get me a copy of your transcripts. I’ll take care of everything. If this is what you want, Michael, you’ll have it.”

Jeremy is braced for Squip’s attention, but it still makes him jump a little to have that laser focus all turned on him. “What about you, Jeremy? What can I do to make you happy?”

_Start by losing the shirt_ , Jeremy thinks, shifting in his seat. ”I don’t. I don’t really want anything,” he says, hoping somehow no one heard his voice squeak over the word ‘want’. 

“No hopes? No dreams?” When Jeremy shyly shakes his head, Squip nods. “Why don’t I tell you what I see for you, Jeremy?”

Jeremy clears his throat, laughs a little. “Let me guess, librarian? Wait, uh, dust inspector. Senior dust inspector, even.”

Squip chuckles, a warm sound that Jeremy immediately wants to hear again. “Cute. Alright, you have a confidence problem. We’ll fix that. Why don’t we start with something small for you. A seat on the city council. A position in the mayor’s office.”

“Mayor’s office?” he echoes in confusion.

“Just to start, of course. You’d be mayor in a few years.”

“ _Mayor?!_ I can’t be the mayor! I don’t know anything about, about government, or leadership, or any of that shit!”

Squip waits patiently for Jeremy’s panic to burn itself out, like he already knows how to manage him. When Jeremy slumps back in his chair with a huff, Squip reaches over, his fingers resting gently on Jeremy’s wrist where he’s nervously gripping the edge of the desk. “Jeremy. If you listen to me, I promise you success. I can get you into the right classes, introduce you to the right people, move you into the right social circles. You’ll start out in a small government office, and someday you’ll represent the state. Your popularity will launch your greater political career. I can see it all.”

“You’re serious,” Michael says wonderingly, like he’s not sure if Squip is making sense or talking crazy. Maybe both.

Squip holds out his hand, palm up. “Give me your phone, Jeremy.” Jeremy isn’t entirely sure why he does it without hesitation, but a moment later, Squip is tapping something into it. A soft chiming rings out, and Squip digs his phone from the jacket draped over his chair. “You’ve got my personal number,” Squip explains, holding up his cell. “And I have yours. I expect you’ll share it with your partner.” He tucks his phone away, and passes Jeremy back his. 

Squip walks Jeremy and Michael to the glass door, reaching past them to press the button and retract the panel. “Don’t hesitate to call me. Either of you. I know it’s all hard to believe, but I ask that you give me a chance to prove to you how powerful you can really be, with my help. You can have everything you’ve ever wanted. More than you ever knew you wanted.”

The panel closes, and then it’s just them and the secretary, who smiles at them again. “You gentlemen have a nice evening,” she says, turning quickly back to whatever she’d been working on. They hurry out of the building, and don’t talk until they’re back in Michael’s car, just sitting there for a moment, processing the last hour.

“What the fuck was that?” Michael leans his head back against the seat. “He’s nuts. He’s hot, but he’s crazy.”

“Fuck, but he _is_ hot. He didn’t even ask us for money.”

“Yeah, dude, because he makes you the mayor and then takes your fucking kidneys as payment, and sells them to the scientists upstairs!”

“Very funny,” Jeremy grumbles, elbowing Michael gently.

“Am I joking? Who can tell!”

By the time they make it home, the weird, intense mood from the meeting has dissipated. But neither Jeremy or Michael can quite get Squip out of their heads. What he said was crazy, it was wild, but. He has a way of speaking that makes it sound like he has a plan, like he knows what to do and has the will and skill to make it happen. Jeremy knows, as he’s climbing into bed with Michael that night, that it’s only a matter of time until they see Squip again. And looking into Michael’s eyes, he knows without asking that Michael feels it too.

* * *

Squip is sitting at his desk a few moments after Jeremy and Michael made their exit, getting his things together so he can leave. He’s wildly off schedule, and already re-planning his evening hours to reclaim lost time and get back on track. Something uncomfortable is continually pinging his awareness, some whisper of sensation that Squip has been steadfastly ignoring. Irritated by the distraction, Squip allows himself to resume awareness of his body and its many inconveniences, determined to find the source of the irritating feeling and deal with it. Perhaps it is hunger. It must be. He is late to dinner, after all.

It’s not hunger.

He’s hard, aching where the line of his cock stretches the fabric of his pants. How long has he been erect? Did Jeremy notice? Did Michael? At the thought of them, Squip becomes aware that their scents are still filling his office, the warmth and sweetness of Michael like some kind of freshly baked cinnamon treat with a hidden, unexpected kick. It’s different to the woodsy, almost peachy scent Jeremy left behind, summery and bright. The two of them together smell like the best dessert he’ll ever taste, and as he breathes in, Squip feels his cock twitch.

“Stop it,” he tells himself sternly. “You’re being ridiculous. Now isn’t the time.” Squip closes his eyes, trying to center himself and regain control of his body, but it only makes him focus more on the tantalizing scents filling the room. He has to get out of there.

Squip packs up the rest of his things in a hurry, his jacket bundled in front of him to hide the obscene jut of his erection. He’s humiliated by the lack of control over himself. He can’t remember the last time he felt this way. Squip rushes out to his car, barely acknowledging the security personnel as they offer him friendly goodbyes. He has to get home, has to take care of…of this issue. Then he’ll be able to focus, and get himself back on schedule. Next time, this won’t happen. Squip will make sure his self-control is ironclad. No one has ever effected him this way.

_Michael Mell and Jeremy Heere. What’s so unique about those two?_ Squip is uncomfortable to realize that for the first time in a long time, he doesn’t have an answer.


	3. Chapter 3

It’s Jeremy’s day off, and he’s done nothing all day besides a bit of laundry. Michael is working, and it’s not like Jeremy has a huge, healthy social life. Who would he call to hang out? Rich? Pfft. Rumor had it that after he got booted out of school in his senior year for ‘excessive aggression’, Rich had gone on to have a very familiar relationship with the local police. So suffice it to say, no one was in any hurry to reconnect with Rich, least of all his favorite target, Jeremy. An alpha like that just had no place in society. No omega would touch him with a ten foot pole, and other alphas didn’t want to be associated with him for fear of being judged to be the same as him, violent, rude, and aggressive. Social suicide for an alpha.

Jeremy has kept in touch with Brooke and Christine, though they don’t hang out very often. He mostly just enjoys being kept in the text loop so he knows what’s going on with all his old classmates. None of them had been surprised to find out he and Michael are together. Apparently it had been obvious to everyone but him. Never let it be said that Jeremy can take a fucking hint.

He’s scrolling through the text chain to follow the latest drama--apparently Chloe and Brooke are having relationship issues--when his phone rings, startling him enough that he almost drops the damn thing. Jeremy stares at the display for a moment, and feels his heartbeat kick up as he reads ‘Squip :)’ on the screen, exactly the way Squip had programmed it in. “Oh god,” he whispers, debating on answering vs not. With his luck, Squip would just call back. He seems like the kind of guy who doesn’t allow himself to be ignored.

“Hello?” Jeremy says weakly, holding the phone to his ear.

“Fantastic. I was almost certain you weren’t going to answer.” Squip’s voice is warm and pleased, and Jeremy can feel a happy flutter in his belly at the approval Squip is projecting. It feels so good to know he’s done something right, and Jeremy gets the feeling Squip isn’t easy to please. “You’ll recall how I said we’d correct your lack of confidence. It’s time for your first lesson, Jeremy.”

“My first lesson?” Jeremy’s head spins as he imagines what it will be. Walking outside naked? Causing a scene in public? His imagination takes a moment to run wild, and Jeremy has a strange realization; there is a lot he would be willing to do to get more of that warm approval from Squip. Maybe not so far as streaking, but. He’d do a lot. And something, some strange, half-forgotten primal instinct, tells him Squip won’t hurt him. Squip isn’t a threat, for all his intimidating demeanor. That doesn’t stop Jeremy from nervously wondering if he’s about to be told that he’s the headline down at the local strip joint. That’d be one way to build his confidence. Or he’d spontaneously combust. Both good options.

“Don’t get excited,” Squip says dryly, like he can tell exactly where Jeremy’s thoughts just went. “We’re going to dinner. I want you to wear something nice. Make an effort to impress me, Jeremy. Try to entice. Your goal tonight is to draw the focus of the people around you, and make them wish they could know you.”

“That’s not going to happen, Squip. No one…No one looks at me like that.” No one ever had, not really. He’d gotten some attention when he first presented, but once everyone realized he was the same awkward guy with the too-long limbs and the baby-deer walk, that had died down. Jeremy had long ago accepted that he’s not the magnetic type. He’s skinny, and tall, and his lack of muscle makes him look like a beanpole. His hair is an unstyled mop of mousy, uninteresting brown, not rich and dark and flatteringly styled like Michael’s, and the only real feature Jeremy is proud of is his eye color, a clear sky blue that he’s always found kinda pretty. Not enough to make up for the baggy pants and age-inappropriate cardigans. How many times has Jeremy been accused of dressing like an old man?

Michael is charismatic, he’s fun and friendly and draws people in without trying, even though he doesn’t realize it. He’s so hot Jeremy doesn’t know what to do about it, with those big brown eyes behind trendy black glasses, the slightly baggy hoodie paired with pants just tight enough to flatter the curve of his soft omega hips. Everything about him is inviting, distracting, mouthwatering, magnetic--but maybe Jeremy is a little biased. 

And Squip? Squip is so effortlessly hypnotic that it’s really not fair. As tall as Jeremy, but broad and muscular in every way Jeremy isn’t. Even hidden by the cut of his suits, Squip looks powerful, strong, starkly masculine in the most classic definition of the word. Even his scent is enough to make Jeremy want to whine for him. Everything about Squip is intense, and cool, and sexy. 

But Jeremy? He’s just your typical loser, and for the most part, he’s okay with that. Someone has to be on the bottom of the social hierarchy, and why shouldn’t it be Jeremy?

“Your attitude is undesirable.” Where Squip’s voice had been warm and welcoming before, it is now cold and hard, cutting and businesslike. Jeremy immediately hates it, an unpleasant tightness curling around his heart like a fist. “I have told you that I’m going to make things happen for you, haven’t I? If I’m going to do that, Jeremy, you need to follow my instructions. This won’t work if you don’t make an effort.”

“I don’t know how to do this,” Jeremy confesses in a small voice. “I just don’t want to let you down.”

“Jeremy,” Squip says gently, “I don’t expect perfection at this stage. We’ve only just started. All I’m asking you to do is show me your best effort. I’ll fine-tune you, but I have to see what I’m really working with. Trust me to guide you. All you have to do is follow my lead.”

Jeremy feels the tension leech out of him, sapped away by Squip. All Jeremy has to do is follow Squip’s instructions. He doesn’t have to worry. He doesn’t have to plan. Squip has taken care of all of that. Jeremy only needs to obey. And oh, does that feel right. “Okay. I’ll do it. Where are we going tonight?”

“Very good,” Squip purrs, the thrum of his voice in Jeremy’s ear making him blush, thoughts turning yet again to candlelight and skin on skin. Squip, oblivious to Jeremy’s illicit thoughts, gives him the name of a restaurant downtown, some fussy fusion place that Jeremy had always considered well out of his price range. “Remember, dress to impress. I want my heart to skip a beat when I see you.”

“I’ll uh. Yeah, I’ll try.” Time to raid his closet. Maybe he has something nice in the back.

* * *

Jeremy steps out of his Lyft and comes into the restaurant, already beginning to panic-sweat. “Good evening, sir,” says an extremely stuffy looking older man in a suit, standing behind a podium in the entryway. “Table for one?”

“Uh y-no, thank you. I mean, I’m meeting someone. They’re here?” Jeremy’s eyes dance around the entryway as if Squip is going to somehow sense his panic and materialize out of a wall to come to his rescue.

“Of course, sir. Go right ahead.” The host waves him through, and Jeremy hurries through the arched doorway into the main room of the restaurant. He is immediately out of his depth, couples at every table, candles lit between them, just making the already romantic lighting even more intimate. Jeremy is beginning to understand why this is a confidence test, and why Squip wasn’t waiting for him out front. He has to put his nerves aside and make his way through the restaurant. Lesson one.

Jeremy takes a moment to breathe and pat his clammy hands dry on his dark blue slacks, a bad habit that he knows Squip would criticize if he had seen it. But he didn’t, so fuck it, Jeremy is a rebel. He holds on to that attitude for all of fifteen seconds as he weaves through tables and around pillars, feeling like every eye in the place is on him, and none of them are the eyes he wants to be watched by. Heart pounding, Jeremy reaches the back of the restaurant, suddenly worried that Squip isn’t here at all, and this had all been some sadistic game. But he scoots around a pillar, and there, in almost the last table in the place, sits Squip, calmly sipping from a chilled glass of water.

Jeremy’s relief is overwhelming, and he rushes to the table, a little lightheaded as the adrenaline begins to recede. “Squip, you’re here,” Jeremy says with a smile bordering on grateful.

“And you found me. Very good. You made it all the way here.” Squip stands to greet him, coming around the table to shake Jeremy’s hand. He doesn’t mention the clamminess, and Jeremy appreciates that. Squip looks Jeremy over, and he smiles, reaching to adjust the collar of the white button up Jeremy’s wearing, making sure it lays correctly against the neck of the thin sweater he’d pulled on over it. “I like this look. Cashmere sweater over a contrast dress shirt is a classic look, and the blue makes your eyes shine. Very nice, Jeremy. I couldn’t be more pleased with you.”

Heat creeps up Jeremy’s neck, and pools low in his gut, a spark of arousal flaring to life. “I should sit,” he says quickly, making for the chair, because in a minute he’s going to embarrass himself with an inappropriate erection and then he’s going to have to move to Europe.

“Of course. Allow me.” Squip moves and pulls out his chair, waiting for Jeremy to sit. As he does, Squip scoots the chair in, a perfect gentleman. At least, until Squip bends to murmur, “You really did make my heart skip, Jeremy,” in his ear, and Jeremy’s budding erection goes from ‘soon’ to ‘NOW’ in a dizzying rush.

_Holy shit, oh fuck my life,_ Jeremy thinks, gripping the edge of the white tablecloth. His face is flaming, he can feel it, and the throbbing between his legs is going nowhere fast. Squip doesn’t seem to notice a thing, returning to his seat and motioning to a waiter, who hurries over with menus and a pitcher of ice water. The man pours Jeremy a glass and leaves the menus behind, and Jeremy quickly raises his just to have something to hide his reddened face behind.

“Don’t hide behind your menu like a child,” Squip scolds, reaching over to tip Jeremy’s menu down so that Squip can see his face. “It’s rude, and you have nothing to worry about.” His tone softens, and he smiles slightly. “I know you’re nervous, but you’ve done well so far. You’re hardly the lost cause I expected, Jeremy.”

Jeremy doesn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed that Squip totally misunderstood the cause of Jeremy’s embarrassment. “Uh. Yeah. I just. You said to dress up, so I did my best.” He may have had to google how to put an outfit together, but the end result was apparently successful, if the way Squip is still eyeing him with interest is any indication.

“I appreciate your effort. You look incredible. And trust me when I say, I’m not the only one to have noticed you. More than one head has turned your way since you walked in.” Squip is studying the menu when Jeremy looks up, shocked, then glances around.

“No fucking way. Me?”

“You. You’re pretty cute when you aren’t terrified, as it turns out. Shall I order for you, or have you decided?” Folding his menu closed, Squip puts it aside, absently straightening the fork beside his plate so that it lays perfectly beside other silverware.

Jeremy has been staring at the menu for the last several minutes, but he hasn’t read a word of it. “Can you order for me?” Squip watches him silently for half a beat, and Jeremy licks his lips, adding a soft, “Please, Squip?”

Squip’s eyes go dark, and Jeremy tells himself it’s just a trick of the light, it must be, Squip can’t possibly be looking at Jeremy like he’d rather have him for dinner than any of the dishes on the menu.

“I’ll take care of it,” Squip replies with unmistakable huskiness. “I’ll handle everything, Jeremy.”

“I know you will,” Jeremy says shyly, setting his menu aside. “I trust you.” It doesn’t startle him to realize, it’s true. He does.

* * *

Whatever Squip ordered for him is probably delicious, but Jeremy hasn’t tasted a single bite of the food he’s been mechanically putting in his mouth for the last several minutes. He’s too busy watching Squip eat. Does--does he _know_ he’s transforming a simple meal into softcore porn, or is Jeremy just that horny, reading into things? Squip rumbles out a satisfied little purr, the tip of his pink tongue flicking out to catch the last little bit of sauce on his fork, and Jeremy knows he’s not reading into jack shit. Squip is eating with a single-minded focus and deep, shameless enjoyment that Jeremy can’t help imagining transferring over to sex.

Squip takes another bite and sighs, eyes fluttering closed as he chews, the faintest smile on his face, and Jeremy can only stare, helplessly flushed with inappropriate, unwanted arousal. He pokes around his plate with his fork, never taking his eyes off Squip, only to find that somewhere along the way, he’s finished everything on his plate. The clink of his fork against the china brings Squip’s attention to him.

“Finished already? I apologize, I’m not quite--”

“Please keep going. I’m fine, I uh. I don’t mind. Finish.” Jeremy clenches his hands in his lap, only barely keeping them off of his straining cock. He’s going to have to find a bathroom the second this meal is over, there’s no way he’ll make it home like this.

Thankfully, Squip is nearly finished already, another few bites accompanied by soft, blissful sounds testing Jeremy’s control to the limit. He places both hands on the table, not quite trusting himself not to try and get himself off quick and sneaky. As wound up as he is, there’d be nothing sneaky about it.

Setting his fork down, Squip settles back in his chair, radiating satisfaction. “I haven’t enjoyed a meal that much in years,” he says with a slow smile. “I usually eat as quickly as I can so that I can return to more important tasks, but I cleared my schedule for you tonight, Jeremy. Thanks to you, I was able to really enjoy myself.”

“Thank you for making time for me,” Jeremy squeaks out, shifting his hips restlessly. “I’m going to find the bathroom, I’ll be right back.” He’s gone before Squip can say anything, hurrying toward the side of the restaurant where he’d seen the bathroom on his way in.

He rushes into a stall and slams it shut, fingers scrabbling to get it locked. Jeremy doesn’t even know if he’s alone in the bathroom, but he can’t afford to care, he’s been on edge for nearly an hour and he’s beyond desperate. He almost pops the button off his pants in his hurry to pop it open, but once he gets his zipper down and draws his cock out of his underwear, he forgets all about that. “Oh fuck,” he whispers shakily, leaning heavily against the wall as he begins stroking himself quickly. Jeremy bites his lip to stifle the desperate, needy noises that want to spill out of him, and the metal wall of the stall rattles quietly as he begins to thrust up into his hand, blind and mindless with desire. All he can think about is Squip, the look on his face, the sounds he’d made, just from eating something good. What would he sound like if Jeremy could touch him, if Jeremy slipped beneath the table and put his mouth around Squip’s cock?

The orgasm hits Jeremy like a punch to the gut, swift and hard and doubling him over, air rushing out of him with a strained groan. He barely has the mind to cup his hand over himself, catching the worst of the mess. Jeremy’s legs go jellied, and he sits carefully on the edge of the toilet, getting some toilet paper to wipe his shaking hands on. Once he’s tidied up and as put together as he’s going to get, Jeremy flushes and goes out to wash his hands, looking at himself in the mirror. A few splashes of cold water help leech the redness out of his cheeks, and he pats his face dry with a couple paper towels before heading back out to the table.

“Are you quite alright?” Squip asks when Jeremy returns. “You were gone a while.”

“Uh, yeah, no I’m fine. I just. Needed some water.” Jeremy shoots him a shaky smile.

“Water. Different water from the water that’s here at the table? In your…water glass?” Squip looks distinctly unimpressed. “We’ll need to work on your lying. You’re terrible at it and you’re just embarrassing yourself. And by extension, me. Unless you mean me to believe you enjoy drinking toilet water.”

“I don’t drink toilet water!”

“Until you can come up with a less humiliating lie, I’m afraid I have no choice but to assume you do, in fact, drink toilet water. Not the oddest thing I’ve ever heard of my clients doing, I can at least say that.” Squip stands up, motioning Jeremy do the same. “I paid the check while you were off sampling the refreshments in the bathroom. Why don’t I take you home?”

“I don’t drink toilet water!!” Jeremy says again, loudly enough that the nearby tables all glance their way.

“And now that you’ve convinced everyone in the immediate area that you absolutely do drink toilet water, why don’t you be a good boy and stop shouting, hm?” Squip places a firm hand on the small of Jeremy’s back and guides him out of the restaurant, the warmth of his touch burning like a brand through two layers of clothing. Jeremy’s dick is already taking an interest again, and he’s not sure if he can make it through an entire car ride, surrounded by Squip’s scent.

“I can get a Lyft, you don’t have to take me home. It’s cool.”

“Nonsense. Come on.”

Squip’s car is as sleek and cool as he is, some slick black thing that looks like it just drove right off the set of a James Bond movie. Jeremy doesn’t know anything about cars, but he’s pretty sure this one cost more money than he’s ever seen in his life. The interior is shot through with blue, the pattern reminding him of the circuitry inside a computer. He feels like he’s been swallowed by an AI.

It’s no surprise that Squip doesn’t need directions to his house, and doesn’t creep Jeremy out nearly as much as it probably should. Squip walks him to the door, and for a breathless moment, Jeremy thinks he’s about to get a goodnight kiss. But Squip just takes his hand in a firm grip, shaking it. “You did very well tonight, Jeremy. I’m thoroughly impressed. You’re further along than I thought you were. I’ll update the plan and call you when I’ve decided on your next move.”

He’s walking away before Jeremy can offer up much more than a faint ‘thank you’, and the rumble of his car’s engine is the only thing that disturbs the quiet night on Jeremy’s street.

Later that night, after a few hours of skyping with Michael, both of them too tired to get out of bed and come over the other’s place, Jeremy is staring up at his ceiling, thinking through everything that happened.

_You really did make my heart skip, Jeremy._

_Why don’t you be a good boy and stop shouting, hm?_

_I’m thoroughly impressed._

Every time Squip talked to him like that, Jeremy went hot all over, stomach clenching, heart pounding. He’s been attracted to Squip since he met him, Jeremy can admit that. The guy is handsome, anyone can see that. But…with just a few words, it’s like Squip can reach inside him and find him where he’s soft and vulnerable. Like Squip can just hijack his brain, like he has some secret cheat code Jeremy is only just now finding out about. Maybe he should be scared, but he isn’t. He likes it, and he wants more.

He’s got to talk to Michael about all this. Michael will know what to do, what Jeremy needs and how to get it. He’s always known, and never let Jeremy down. If anyone can tell him how to figure Squip out, it’ll be Michael. Besides, Jeremy would never do anything behind Michael’s back, and he’s starting to feel like maybe…well. It’s definitely time to talk to Michael.

Because Jeremy gets the feeling that shit’s about to get intense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment and let me know what you think! Sorry it took so long, it's been a craaazy couple weeks for real! And if anyone is on discord, please feel free to join my server! 
> 
> https://discord.gg/Q4BTUkv


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made it a few weeks without writing anything explicit! Look at me go! Anyway here's a bunch of porn!

“I think we should talk,” Jeremy says, a little breathless, “ab-about Squip.”

“Now?! Are you fucking kidding? Dude!” Michael freezes in place where he’s poised over Jeremy’s stiff cock, and Michael’s so open and ready there’s a slick dribble rolling down his thigh. He’s nowhere near his heat, but they haven’t been able to spend much time together lately with their work schedules refusing to line up the last two weeks. Michael may not have as high a sex drive as Jeremy does, but after barely getting any for fourteen fucking days, he’s ready to scream. “Can I fuck you while you talk?”

“God, yes,” Jeremy whimpers, lifting his hips so the burning tip of him just barely nudges Michael’s aching hole, and that’s the end of Michael’s patience. He’s waited two weeks, and he can’t wait another second.

Michael sinks down slowly, and moans deep in his chest at the perfect way Jeremy fills him. It’s a familiar, sweet ache in his core, just flirting with that edge of too much. This far from his heat, it’s a little harder to take everything Jeremy’s got, but Michael wouldn’t have him any other way. Jeremy is perfect, and Michael is already shaking as Jeremy slides thickly against his prostate, stroking him just right inside without even trying. “Fuck, I missed you,” Michael gasps, bracing his hands on Jeremy’s narrow chest so he can ride him in earnest.

“Me too, you,” Jeremy says, eloquent as ever. He’s gotten more confident with Michael’s body since the first time they did anything like this, years ago during Michael’s preheat. Now, Jeremy doesn’t hesitate to touch him, handling Michael’s body with as much familiarity as his own. Jeremy’s hands clutch at Michael’s soft omega hips, dragging him down for a few quick, hard thrusts that have Michael crying his name in a shaky voice, his hard cock twitching out a few silky drops of fluid over Jeremy’s stomach.

“Baby, wait, don’t make me come, not yet,” Michael directs, slowing their pace. “I want to enjoy this.” Jeremy strokes up Michael’s chest, pausing to pinch his reddened nipples until he feels Michael go tight and twitchy around his cock.

“You wanted to talk,” Michael reminds him with a groan as one of Jeremy’s hands finds his cock. “So talk. Fuck, fuck, _Jeremy!_ ”

Jeremy snatches his hand back and goes still, knowing exactly how close to the edge he just pushed his boyfriend. He can’t hide the smug little grin on his face. Jeremy might not be good at much, but he can play Michael like a fucking instrument, and that’s more satisfying than any other skill he can imagine. A few deep breaths later, and Michael is gently rocking his hips again, just enough to tease himself. “It’s about Squip,” Jeremy says. “I think he might be flirting?”

For a moment, Michael looks so blissed out and far away that Jeremy is pretty sure he didn’t hear a word of that, his head tilted back and eyes closed while he rocks slow and hypnotic on Jeremy’s cock. “No shit,” Michael sighs eventually, looking down at Jeremy. “He’s _been_ flirting. The way he talks, everything just sounds like a come-on. And his _scent_ \--fuck.” Michael stops moving again, apart from the way he’s shaking all over and clenching around Jeremy like he couldn’t bear to let him go.

“I know,” Jeremy moans, restlessly working his hips in little circles. “He smells so fucking good, and the way he _talks_ , and looks at us--”

“--Like he knows something we don’t, and the only way we’ll ever find out is to fuck him,” Michael finishes Jeremy’s thought, and his hips are moving again, faster, harder. “I bet he fucks like a machine, just so fucking precise, right on it.” He’s hotter inside than when they started, and wetter, and Jeremy is so, so grateful that he’s not the only one who’s horny for Squip.

Jeremy is losing his mind, his whole body tingling as his thoughts dart wildly between Michael and Squip; Michael’s moans, and Squip’s smirk, and the glazed look in Michael’s eyes, and Squip’s fluttery groan while he was eating. It’s too much, too good, and Jeremy can feel the knot at the base of his cock go achy and sensitive as it begins to swell, a jolt going through him each time it presses tightly to Michael’s slick hole. Sensation streaks from Jeremy’s tip to his base, like there are just as many nerves in his knot as there are in the head of his cock. He grits his teeth, hands curling into fists against Michael’s hips as Jeremy fights the urge to hold Michael still and bury his entire length inside him. But Michael isn’t in heat, and Jeremy knows, he knows better than to get demanding. His knot isn’t the biggest one he’s ever seen, but it’s still substantial, and no amount of satisfaction is worth the risk of giving Michael too much, too fast.

Michael knows what Jeremy is doing, knows how he’s holding back, and knowing how good Jeremy is being for him just drives Michael’s arousal that much higher. “No, I want it, Jer,” Michael whines, his hands roving restlessly over his own skin, rubbing over his nipples, slickly stroking his cock, tugging his own hair. “Fuck, please. Knot me, baby _please._ ”

With Michael’s permission ringing in his ears, Jeremy gives in to his instincts with a nearly feral little growl, his fingers digging into Michael’s hips with bruising force as he holds Michael in place and begins working his knot inside.

Michael lets out a high, frantic whimper at the stretch, but the brief seconds of pain melt into pleasure almost immediately, and the second Jeremy’s knot pops past his rim, he’s lost. Michael comes with a broken cry, streaking Jeremy’s stomach and chest. The rhythmic clenching around Jeremy’s knot ensures that Jeremy follows immediately, and it’s only experience and luck that have Michael slapping a hand over Jeremy’s mouth to muffle his helpless scream. Michael squeezes down again, and feels Jeremy twitch out another hard orgasm, writhing beneath Michael as pleasure turns him inside out.

“Fuck, oh fuck, Michael please,” Jeremy babbles when Michael lets him speak. “Oh god!” He can’t stop coming, the slightest friction or pressure on his knot setting off fireworks all over his body. Someone is yelling Michael’s name, and only when Michael covers his mouth again does Jeremy realize it must be him.

* * *

“Fuck, that was good,” Michael groans nearly twenty minutes later, when Jeremy’s knot eases enough to let them separate. He doesn’t go far, just moves so that he’s crushing Jeremy slightly less, not that Jeremy seems to have noticed.

“Mmmm,” Jeremy purrs, nuzzling into Michael’s throat.

“Didn’t know talking about Squip would get us both so hot. I can’t remember the last time I wanted your knot so bad outside my heat. Felt like I was going crazy without it.”

“Mmmichael,” Jeremy hums sweetly against his skin.

“That’s me, baby, right here with you. Love it when you get all sweet and spaced out on me. Lets me know I fucked you right, made you feel good.” He kisses the side of Jeremy’s head and smiles at the contented little sigh that gets him.

“So good,” Jeremy mumbles, edging closer to a well-earned nap. “Squip? Yes?”

“Oh, Squip absolutely yes. Get your nap, Jer. We’ll talk more when you can actually, you know. Talk.”

The only answer he gets is a low mumble, and Jeremy rubbing his face against Michael’s neck and shoulder, mingling their scents even more. A moment later, his breathing evens out, and Michael closes his eyes. He earned a fucking nap, too. And if they were really going to be reeling Squip in, they were gonna need all the rest they could get. It’s going to be a challenge, but when did Michael ever back down from one of those?


	5. Chapter 5

It’s been weeks since Michael and Jeremy worked the same shift, and today is no different. Michael isn’t sure if it’s just bad luck or if the manager just caught the two of them shooting each other dopey little smiles one too many times and got sick of it. Spending the hours with Jeremy makes the work go by so much faster, and now that their shifts are so different, Michael can’t stand this shit. He doesn’t even like coffee, and if he has to make one more half-caf pumpkin spice abomination, he’s going to off himself in the break room.

Jeremy comes by sometimes just to see him, but he can’t stay long without getting both of them in trouble, or else he’d hang around all day. He hasn’t come by yet, and Michael has another couple hours left on his shift, but his patience is wearing thin. He’s wiping down the counter, fantasizing about being able to throw his apron on the hook in the break room and get in his fucking car. Sweet freedom from corporate coffee hell.

“You look miserable.” A familiar voice snaps Michael out of his daydream. “If I order an iced coffee, do you promise not to dump it on me in protest?” Squip is leaning against the counter, looking amazing and smelling like fresh, clean rainwater. It must be casual Friday, because he’s wearing a blue polo instead of his usual well-tailored suit, but as seems to be usual with Squip and clothes in general, he hasn’t bothered to button it, and Michael can’t help eyeing the little triangle of chest Squip has on display. Squip is smirking faintly when Michael meets his eyes, clearly having spied him looking.

“No promises, man. Maybe if I drench enough customers, I’ll get fired and I can fucking go home. You said iced?” Squip nods, and Michael starts on his order, really taking his time since there’s no one in line behind Squip and Michael could desperately use the social interaction.

“You don’t like it here?”

“It was fine when Jeremy was here too. But we’ve been on different shifts for weeks. I’m stuck here without him and we never fucking see each other.” Michael scoops ice into Squip’s cup a little too hard, frustration cresting. It was his idea to save money, sure, but he’d planned for them to do it together. He and Jeremy were always able to get through shit by staying together. This isn’t what he signed up for.

“Hm. When’s your break, Michael? If you have a moment to chat, I’d love to see what I can do for you.” Squip is watching him work with more fascination than the simple task deserves.

Michael sets the full cup down in front of Squip and snaps a lid onto it for him. Their fingers brush when Michael pushes the cup forward, and Squip reaches to take it, and Michael looks up to see Squip scenting him, eyes heavy-lidded and dark. A blush floods Michael’s cheeks, and he’s so flustered it takes him two tries to ring up the order. He checks the clock. “I can go on break now,” he answers, trying to ignore the nervous-excited flutter in his belly. “Just gimme a second to tell my coworker. She’s doing dishes in the back.”

“I’ll be here,” Squip says with a warm smile, poking a straw into his drink.

Michael tells his coworker, Kes, that he’s taking his break, and she hums an acknowledgement, in her own dish-cleaning groove and no doubt dreaming of the end of her shift, just like he is. Before Michael heads back out to the front, he takes off his apron and smooths down the simple black t-shirt he has on underneath. It’s got an oldschool gameboy on it, with the text ‘I paused my game to be here’ surrounding it. Michael had just grabbed it randomly out of his closet, but now he’s nervous, hoping Squip at least thinks it’s funny. He takes a moment to run his fingers through his hair, trying to bring some life back to his steam-limp locks.

Squip is waiting by the door when Michael makes it out of the break room. He’s leaning against the wall, sipping his iced coffee, and Michael has to stop for a minute just to admire the view. Squip is--wow. Tall, and broad shouldered, with a sturdy waist and narrow hips. Even through the grey slacks he’s wearing, his thighs are thick with muscle, and Michael spares a thought for how much time Squip must spend in the gym to look so powerful. Those thighs shift as Squip pushes away from the wall and comes over to him in a few long strides. “Ready?” Squip asks, and his voice is so low and silky that it makes Michael shiver.

Fuck, this _guy_. “Ready,” Michael answers, and he flushes at how it comes out all omega sweet and sultry. Squip pauses for half a second and Michael knows he’s not imagining the heated look Squip is giving him, but the moment breaks and Squip holds the door open for him. Michael feels a puff of air against his cheek as he squeezes by Squip, and knowing Squip is still scenting him makes Michael go hot all over.

“I like your shirt,” Squip comments as they stroll up the sidewalk. Michael isn’t sure where they’re going, but he’s content to follow for now. “And your tattoo. I haven’t played Pac-man in years, but I used to be pretty good.”

“Oh shit, really? Somehow I can’t imagine you gaming. At all. I mean, you’re just so…”

“Serious?” Squip grins and shrugs. “I wasn’t always such a prick. I even had a sense of humor, once upon a time.”

“You? No!” Michael scoffs, elbowing Squip gently in the side. He immediately regrets doing that because fuck, Squip is solid under that stupid polo, warm and hard with muscle. “Uh. Hah, I can’t imagine you as a kid. Bet you were born in a little suit.” Michael congratulates himself on a speedy recovery from the 404 in his brain. _Squip too hot, reply not found_. “If you like tattoos, though, I’ve got more.”

“Is that so? I’d love to see.”

They reach a small park a few blocks away from the coffee shop, and Squip leads Michael over to a bench a little ways off the beaten path. Michael sits down next to Squip and turns his back to him, tugging up his shirt to bare his back. There’s a colorful butterfly the size of a hand done in watercolor style in the upper left part of Michael’s back. A trail of the same blue and pink colors adorning its wings makes a path across Michael’s back in swirls of purple, like the butterfly had started in the bottom right and the tattoo caught it mid-flight. “I got this one for my moms. Mariposa, that’s my mom’s name. Means butterfly, you know? And Ma, uh, Vivian, my other mom, her favorite colors are pink, purple, and blue.”

“This is beautiful,” Squip says earnestly, leaning closer to study every detail. He isn’t sure if it’s the chill of the day or the sensation of Squip’s breath ghosting across his skin, but Squip can see goosebumps raise on Michael’s back, and his scent goes warm. Squip is utterly certain, in that moment, that Michael is blushing. He can smell it. Squip takes the alpha part of himself that is really enjoying Michael’s reaction and shoves it to the back of his mind, ordering himself to focus on business. That’s the whole point of this little stroll, isn’t it? “You’ll have to show me more next time.” 

“Yeah, for sure.” Michael clears his throat and pulls his shirt down, and when he turns to face Squip, he is indeed sporting a charming redness on his cheeks. Damn, but Squip could just _eat_ him.

_No! No. You’re here to work, not give in to weakness_ , Squip reminds himself again. _Focus. Don’t be pathetic._

“So, talk to me about this work situation,” Squip prompts. “Who’s setting this schedule? Manager? Owner?”

“It’s the manager. Owner doesn’t come by much.” Michael sighs tiredly, leaning back on the bench and looking up at the sky. Squip shifts beside him, and Michael glances over, eyes going wide because Squip is a lot closer than he’d been a minute ago, having leaned forward while he listened. Michael can see the little flecks of gray and green in Squip’s deep brown eyes. It’s strange, but so beautiful.

“I’ll fix it for you,” Squip promises, soft and earnest. “I’ll make some calls and fix this, get you and Jeremy back on the same schedule. I don’t care what I have to do. I’ll fix it.”

For a moment, the look on Squip’s face is so open, so tender, such a classically alpha ‘let me please you’ expression that Michael’s chest goes tight with feeling. “Squip…” Michael reaches a reassuring hand to take Squip’s own, but the motion seems to break whatever delicate tension was spinning out between them.

Squip flinches back almost invisibly, and his expression shutters. In an instant, he looks cool and unaffected, as always. “I’ll call you when I’ve made some progress with your schedule. In the meantime, get me a copy of your transcripts. I’m ready to move forward with your admission to your school of choice, but this is a time-sensitive, delicate situation. I’ll need you to hurry.” He stands up and tosses the remains of his drink in a nearby trashcan, then turns to go.

“Squip, wait,” Michael calls, relieved when Squip hesitates, turning back to him. “Aren’t you going to walk me back?” Michael lowers his head slightly, glancing up at Squip with a soft plea in his eyes. It’s playing dirty with Squip’s alpha instincts and Michael knows that, but that doesn’t stop the omega in him from practically purring in satisfaction as Squip hurries back to his side.

“Yes, of course. I apologize.” Squip even reaches out to help Michael up, a strong hand wrapping around his arm and tugging him up off the bench like it’s nothing. “It wasn’t my intention to be rude.”

“No harm, no foul. Just didn’t want you to hurry off so quick, man. I like hanging with you, and I got a couple minutes left on my break. Might as well put me back where you found me, right?” Michael very carefully doesn’t mention that Squip is still loosely holding on to his arm. A few inches lower and they’d be holding hands.

Squip keeps holding on to him all the way back to the coffee shop, and Michael can’t tell if he’s aware that he’s even doing it. Until they get back to the door and Squip lets Michael go like his arm just turned into a venomous snake, that is. Michael doesn’t say anything, just chuckles quietly and heads inside. “I’ll see you later, Squip. Thank you for walking me back. I had fun.” Fuck, he sounds like he’s saying goodbye to a date.

From the strained look on his face, Squip hears it too. “Of course. Get me your transcripts. Goodbye.” If Michael isn’t mistaken, and he sure fucking isn’t, there’s the faintest hint of pink creeping up Squip’s neck as he turns on his heel and hurries away. Maybe getting Squip to notice the chemistry between them isn’t going to be the challenge he thought it was.

* * *

“Phone’s ringing,” Jeremy says, tapping furiously on his controller, eyes glued to the screen. “Babe, your phone.”

“So get it,” Michael replies absentmindedly, just as entranced by his own efforts in the game, thumbs dancing out pure poetry on his controller’s buttons.

“It’s _your_ phone,” Jeremy points out.

“They’ll call back, it’s fine!” And then Michael dies a gory death two seconds later. “Son of a bitch!” He snatches up his still ringing phone, and swipes to answer the unknown number. “What!” he snaps.

There’s a pause on the other line. “Considering I’m calling with good news, I can only hope your mood is about to improve significantly,” Squip says, a laugh in his voice. “If you’d like to yell a while longer, I won’t stop you. Let it all out, Michael. I can take it.”

All the fight drains right out of Michael at just the sound of Squip’s cool voice, and he relaxes with a sigh, slumping against Jeremy, who puts an arm around him. “Squip. How’d you get my number?”

“I told you I’d call,” Squip says, and Michael can recognize a non-answer when he hears one. “I have good news. I spoke with the owner of your fine establishment, a lovely lady by the name of Yolanda. I explained your situation, and luckily, she’s a romantic. She agreed to personally see to it that your schedule lines up with Jeremy’s from now on.”

“Dude, really? That’s amazing! You’re fucking incredible, Squip.” Michael grabs at Jeremy, giving him an excited little shake, grinning wildly. While Jeremy can’t hear the whole conversation, he can guess what Squip just told Michael, and it’s like a weight slides off his shoulders. They’ve both been struggling the last few weeks, and just being able to work together will help so much.

“I…I’m just doing my job. I’m here to solve your issues, and get you what you want, that’s all.” Squip may be brushing the compliment aside, but Michael can hear the uncertain, shy pleasure in his voice, and it’s making the omega in Michael clamor to heap Squip with praise, to fill him up with knowledge of how good he is until the doubt in his voice disappears completely.

“You did great this time around. This is exactly what I wanted. Thank you for working so hard for me.”

“Yes, of course,” Squip murmurs, a little dazedly. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

Michael wonders how long it’s been since an omega gave him any positive reinforcement. If Squip can slip into the pleasant, warm haze of alpha fog with just a few compliments, he must be starved for omega approval. Poor guy.

For as quickly as Squip had gone under, he’s just as quick to surface from his alpha fog, clearing his throat a few times. “I have an appointment I’m going to be late for if I don’t go now. I’ll see you soon. When you have your transcripts.”

“Yeah, man. For sure. I’ll see you in a few days. Later.” Michael ends the call after Squip’s stilted goodbye, and sits for a second, just processing what happened. The idea of Squip being starved for contact with an omega doesn’t fit with the cool, unruffled image he always projects. It’s only now that Michael is starting to see the holes in that persona. Something’s up, and Michael isn’t quite sure what it is. But all his instincts are screaming at him to give Squip the approval and care he deserves, and Michael isn’t inclined to disagree.

“You good?” Jeremy’s worried voice snaps Michael out of his thoughts. “You’re just kinda staring blankly at the wall and if you’re having a stroke, I probably should get you to the hospital.”

“I’m good, Jer, I’m all good.” Michael tugs the controller out of Jeremy’s grasp and puts it aside, pulling Jeremy’s other arm around him until they’re curled up together on the couch. “It’s just…Do you ever think there might be something to all those old stories about scent bonds, and fate, and true mates? About how true mates are different, they complete each other, need each other, in a way other mates just…don’t. You believe that shit?”

“Well, yeah.” Jeremy looks at him incredulously. “Of course I do. Michael, I scent bonded to you the second I smelled you the first time after I presented. It took me a while to realize that’s what it was, but. I never wanted anyone half as much as I wanted you. I could tell it was the same for you.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“Dude, come on. The way we’ve always been together, always had each other’s backs? We’ve always been stronger together, better together. Filled out each other’s missing pieces. What else could that be but true mates? It’s fucking science. And you never even looked at anyone else after I presented.”

Michael slips his hands under Jeremy’s shirt, just to feel his skin, soothing himself with Jeremy’s familiar warmth. “Until Squip.”

“Until Squip,” Jeremy confirms. “He’s different. He’s been different since the beginning. It’s like…since I scented him that first time, I saw something, some other piece that’s still missing.”

“And he’s got it,” Michael finishes, knowing exactly what Jeremy’s talking about. It had been the same for him, once he’d started paying attention, that day in the office. The second he’d gotten a good whiff of Squip’s freshwater alpha scent, something in him had responded. Somehow, he’d known, before he really _knew._ Now, it was just a matter of finding out if Squip felt it, too.

* * *

It only takes Michael a few days to get over to the high school and get his transcripts printed out. He’s just coming off of a long, irritating shift where it seemed like everything that could go wrong, had gone wrong. Jeremy had dropped a tray of cups, Michael had given out incorrect change and two wrong orders, customer after customer kept coming back to the counter with a laundry list of complaints. By the end of his shift, Michael had been ready to tear the mouth off the next person who talked in his general direction.

While Jeremy went home to call and bitch to Christine, who had endless patience and the best advice for any of her friends dealing with stress or drama, Michael decided to just get the transcripts off his plate and out of the way. He’s only marginally calmer by the time he walks into the waiting room of Squip’s office, paperwork in hand. “I’m here to drop something off for Squip,” Michael explains as he approaches the receptionist, intending to leave the papers with her. The lobby isn’t packed, but there are a few people in the chairs grouped around the room, all of whom no doubt have appointments.

“One moment, please.” The receptionist gives him a polite smile and gestures to a free chair with one well-manicured hand.

Michael releases one hard sigh of frustration, but obediently parks it in the offered chair, papers in hand, not sure what else he’s supposed to do at this point. He brought the transcripts, as requested. Isn’t the rest of this shit supposed to be Squip’s job?

“Squip will see you now, sir,” the receptionist calls, and the panel in the wall slides away just as it had before.

Michael gets up and makes his way toward the office with a pinched expression. He just wants to go home and take an angry little nap, and wake up wanting to kill everyone slightly less.

The panel slides shut with a whisper as soon as he’s through, like before. Squip is behind the desk, ignoring Michael in favor of his computer screen as he finishes reading whatever he’s working on. “Transcripts,” he demands, holding out his hand, still not sparing Michael a glance.

“Fine,” Michael snaps, tempted to shove the papers down Squip’s fucking throat. He slaps the paperwork down into Squip’s outstretched hand, the whole shitty day just boiling over.

And then Squip’s other hand is grabbing his wrist. “Michael, are you alright?” Squip sets the papers down and stands up, moving around the desk and putting both hands on Michael’s shoulders, searching his expression. “Bad day?”

“The fucking worst!” Michael agrees, hanging his head. “Fuck, I just want to--ugh, I don’t even know! Run over every coffee drinker in the city?”

“Hm.” Squip stares at him for a long moment, then turns Michael around, nudging him toward one of the chairs. “Your stress levels are dangerously high. It would be irresponsible of me to allow you to continue at this rate. Sit there.”

Michael tensely perches on the edge of the seat, drumming his fingers on the arm. “Look, meditation doesn’t work for me, okay? I’ve tried it. I just have to wait it out, and I’ll calm down eventually.”

“I’m not suggesting meditation.” Squip takes off his suit jacket and tosses it over his chair, then rolls up his sleeves. That done, he grabs Michael’s chair and lifts it enough to turn it around, so Michael is facing the door instead of the desk. The movement is so smooth that the chair might as well have been empty, rather than containing a full grown man. _So Squip really is as strong as his build says he is_ , Michael notes.

“What are you doing?”

“Making room. I’m not a small man, Michael, I would never have fit in the space between you and the desk,” Squip replies matter-of-factly.

“Wait, what? Oh, holy shit.” Michael’s eyes go round behind his glasses as Squip kneels gracefully in front of him, his big hands hot where they rest on Michael’s thighs. “What are you doing?” Michael asks again softly.

“Providing stress relief. If you’ll allow me.” Squip looks up at him expectantly.

“No, I--” Michael is so thrown by this sharp turn that he’s having trouble rebooting his brain, here.

“No?” Squip’s touch vanishes immediately and he sits back, and Michael immediately misses his body heat.

“No, I mean yes, just. Give me a minute to think.”

“Of course.” Squip stays right there, kneeling with his hands resting in his lap, his expression calm and serene. He looks like he could stay there all day, just waiting for Michael to decide if he…if he wants him. If he wants Squip to service him.

That would rev any omega’s motor, and Michael is no exception. “Okay. Yes.”

“Yes?” Squip double checks.

“Fuck yes. Get over here, already.” Michael’s heart is already pounding, and Michael isn’t sure if it’s nerves or excitement. Maybe a little of both. Squip nudges Michael’s knees apart so he can fit his big body between them, and the scales tip firmly toward ‘excitement’.

The hands that work Michael’s pants open are steady and sure, none of Jeremy’s adorable shaky fumbling. It’s weird for a minute, but then Squip gets his cock out, and Michael forgets all about that. He’s halfway to hard already, and a few strokes from Squip easily get him the rest of the way there. “I prefer you don’t touch my hair,” Squip explains, still stroking him lightly. “Otherwise, feel free to touch me and guide me however you like.” He bends, and Michael feels a quick, almost tentative brush of tongue around the head of his cock. Michael whimpers, but the hungry, rough sound Squip makes at the taste of him covers the noise, and then Michael is surrounded by slick, wet heat.

“Fuuuuuck, dude. Shit.” Michael’s head tilts back and he moans at the slick waves of suction and Squip’s agile, enthusiastic tongue dancing over him with every bob of Squip’s head.

Squip pulls off of him with a wet sound and licks his reddened lips. “They can’t see you, but the people in the lobby can certainly hear you, Michael. Try not to be too loud.”

“It’s your fault,” Michael says on a strained groan as Squip licks a hot stripe up his shaft, pausing to do something absolutely wicked to Michael’s tip with his tongue. “FUCK, come on,” Michael yelps at the sharp stabs of pleasure. “You’re doing this on purpose, oh my god, you’re fucking evil,” he gasps, before covering his own mouth with his hand, muffling his helpless noises as Squip sucks him in again.

Michael’s free hand finds the back of Squip’s neck, pulling him closer, pushing him to take Michael deeper. He lets go immediately when Squip chokes, but before Michael can even open his mouth to apologize, a moan vibrates around his cock and Squip _takes_ him. Michael’s hips jerk as Squip takes him deeper, lets his throat open, and when Squip’s eyes meet Michael’s, they’re glassy with the sweetness of alpha fog.

Squip is moaning faintly each time Michael’s cock goes deep, and his hands are limp on Michael’s thighs, his fog-limited brain power all focused on making sure he’s sucking Michael off to the best of his ability.

It’s only a few minutes before Michael is tensing, gasping out a warning to Squip, who rumbles encouragingly and takes Michael deep, looking up at him with pleading eyes. Michael doesn’t stand a chance of holding off after that, frantically covering his mouth again because the climax that tears through him is so intense that he can’t help the way he moans. Squip’s eyes flutter closed as he swallows everything Michael has to give, and he keeps going, sucking Michael gently until overstimulation has Michael pushing Squip away.

Squip slumps against the desk like a puppet whose strings have been cut, glazed eyes staring at nothing. Michael can see that Squip is undeniably, obscenely hard, but he makes no move to touch himself, just sits there panting softly, lips swollen and as red as the blush spread across his face and down his neck.

As soon as Michael recovers enough to actually operate clothing, he tucks himself away and zips up. “Squip?”

Dark eyes slowly track to him, and Squip asks, “do you feel better?” with a rasp in his voice.

“Yeah, sweetheart, I do. I feel better. I feel good. You were so, so good to me.”

Squip arches like Michael just stroked his cock, and twists so he’s resting against Michael’s leg instead of the desk, taking deep inhales of Michael’s well-satisfied scent. Michael reaches to soothe him, avoiding his hair and rubbing his neck, petting his cheeks and jaw instead.

Some time later, the intercom buzzes. “Squip? Sir, your four pm just arrived. And your three pm is still waiting.” Squip jerks up and shakily climbs to his feet, uncoordinated and still foggy. He sits down heavily in his chair, and pushes the button on his phone.

“Thank you, Doris. I’ll be right with them.” His voice is still scratchy, and he fumbles open the water bottle on his desk and takes a long drink.

“Squip, we need to talk about what just happened.” Michael never realized how much eye contact Squip usually makes, until now, when he can’t get Squip to look him in the eye for anything.

“What happened is, my client had a problem, and I was willing and able to solve that problem. What more needs to be said?”

“That’s not all this is, and you know it. It never has been. Not with me. Not with Jeremy. Are you seriously trying to tell me you don’t feel what we feel? Something real, Squip, something that could be really fucking good, if we--”

“You don’t even know me, Michael,” Squip cuts in. “You don’t know what you’re saying. If you knew me, you wouldn’t be saying any of this.” He sets the water bottle down, and finally meets Michael’s gaze. “I got carried away, and I’m sorry. This is my fault. After orgasm, the chemical rush in the brain can make you think you have real feelings for the person you’re with. But in an hour, when you’re home, Michael, you won’t feel this way, I promise. You won’t feel a thing. And in a few days, I’ll call you, and I’ll tell you I’ve set up a meeting with the Dean of Admissions, and we’ll all go back to being what we’ve been all along. Clients and their consultant.”

“Is that what you want?”

“What I want doesn’t matter. I’m only being realistic. I’ll walk you out.” Squip stands up and walks to the door, steadier than he was a moment ago, no sign of the foggy, helplessly turned on alpha he’d been ten minutes ago. “Take my advice. Put this out of your mind. I made a mistake, and put you in a difficult position. Confused you. I apologize.” Squip presses the panel beside the door and it slides open.

“I’m not confused, Squip,” Michael insists as he heads to the door. “Neither is Jeremy. You’ll see.”

Squip inclines his head with a faint smile. “I’ll call you when I’ve made some progress. Please take care, Michael.”

Michael gets out of the building as quickly as he can, his emotions a confused, blurry mess. The only thing he’s sure of is that Squip is wrong. He’s not confused, and this thing between the three of them is real. Michael isn’t sure why Squip is fighting it so hard, what he’s scared of, but Michael isn’t about to let that stand in their way. He’s going to figure this out. It’s time for a strategy meeting. Jeremy will have some ideas on how to warm Squip up. Between the two of them, Jeremy has always been the sweeter one, with the more romantic mind. Squip won’t know what hit him.

_Oh, we’re gonna get you, Squip_ , Michael promises as he gets to his car. _Just you fucking wait._


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like what I'm doing over here, feel free to swing by my tumblr, seluvian.tumblr dot com. I take requests and stuff over there!
> 
> Mind the new tags!!

Jeremy is some mix of aroused and jealous when Michael comes home absolutely reeking of Squip, sex, and satisfaction. It’s like Jeremy’s brain turns off immediately; Michael’s barely gotten through Jeremy’s front door before Jeremy pins him to the wall beside it and begins frantically scenting him. Jeremy ends up on the floor with his face pressed into Michael’s crotch, taking deep, dazed inhales of the scent of Michael and Squip combined. It’s addictive, intoxicating, and Jeremy’s alpha brain wants to roll in the scent until it’s all over him.

“What happened?” Jeremy groans into Michael’s hip.

“Squip sucked me off in his office. Fogged out, hard as a rock, fuck, he was beautiful, Jer.” Jeremy groans again, so low and wounded it sounds more like a growl. He clutches Michael’s legs, pressing his face into Michael so hard that Michael is grateful for the wall behind him keeping him upright. “If you let me go, I’ll give you the pants and underwear I’m wearing, and I promise not to ask what you do with them,” Michael offers, gently coaxing Jeremy backward. “Is your dad home? I’ll take them off right now.”

“He’s napping,” Jeremy mumbles, and Michael can see he’s closer to foggy than clear-headed.

“Okay. Here.” Michael kicks off his shoes and gets his pants and underwear off, tossing them to Jeremy as promised. “I’m gonna take a shower, you do whatever you need to do right now. Hump my pants or whatever you’re into.”

Michael stops in Jeremy’s room to grab some fresh clothes, having started keeping a few outfits here once they started dating. They spend nearly every night together at one place or the other. It just makes sense that each of them have some clothes and toiletries at each other’s house.

One blissfully hot, relaxing shower later, Michael is dressed and chilling in the living room. He’s not sure what Jeremy’s doing in his bedroom, but even in the midst of a relationship like theirs, a private moment is not only healthy, it’s necessary. Besides, Michael’s too thoroughly satisfied to appreciate the sight of Jeremy jacking off over his dirty clothes.

Jeremy wobbles out of his bedroom a few minutes later and into the bathroom. When he comes out of there he makes a beeline for the couch, and collapses next to Michael with an exhausted sigh. It seems like he’s gotten it out of his system, because his eyes are clear and bright, not the hazed out gaze of twenty minutes ago.

“Welcome back,” Michael says, smiling as Jeremy tangles his miles of legs with Michael’s own. “Are my pants even worth saving at this point, or have they been thoroughly defiled?”

“Oh no, you never wanna put those back on,” Jeremy jokes with a little grin. “Just burn them and forget about them.”

“You’re so fucking nasty, baby. I love you.”

“Oh, geez.” And there it is, the blush. Jeremy reddens from his throat to his hairline. Somehow he still isn’t used to Michael coming right out and saying that he loves Jeremy. They can fuck in every position under the sun, but the L word? That’s embarrassing. “I uh. Me too. The love.”

“Okay, Hank Hill, don’t stroke out on me.” Michael kicks him gently and decides to be merciful and change the subject. “So. Things fucking escalated with Squip. I’m still not sure what happened. I was just in his office and I was pissed and then he was sucking my dick and fogging out and it was crazy. Then, he wanted to act like none of that shit happened and he didn’t give a shit about any of it. It’s like whenever he has a feeling he gets freaked out and clams up.”

“Okay, this is going to be ridiculous but, stay with me,” Jeremy warns. “Is he maybe like…shy?”

“Dude, are you kidding? He’s the most outgoing guy I’ve ever met. Like if Jake had a baby with himself, and then that baby took confidence lessons.”

“Yeah, I know, but that’s not what I mean. Maybe he’s shy about other stuff. Like stuff he can’t control, stuff that just happens to everyone. Haven’t you noticed he’s kinda…” Jeremy trails off with a grimace, trying to find a way to articulate without simultaneously insulting Squip.

“A tight ass?” Michael suggests, having no such reservations.

“Well. Yeah? Maybe he doesn’t like being a victim of instinct, like the rest of us.”

Michael considers for a moment, thinking back over Squip’s behavior, especially the last couple times they saw each other. Jeremy is making sense. Every time Squip does something stereotypically alpha, he seems to get spooked and back off. All omegas are taught that although alphas tend to be bigger and stronger physically, they’re also more fragile emotionally, built to be vulnerable and open to their omega’s needs.

Omegas are told how to treat alphas with respect and care, to appreciate and reward all the things alphas do in order to please them. But if an omega didn’t respond with pleasure, if they decided to wound instead, take advantage of an alpha that had opened themselves up like that…Michael can’t imagine what that might do to an alpha. How that might hurt, and scar. Would it be enough to make an alpha just reject that kind of vulnerability in the future? Thinking about everything Squip has done since they met, Michael’s gut says ‘yes.’

“I think we need to approach this differently,” Michael says thoughtfully. “Get him to understand he’s safe, and we’re not going to hurt him if he just relaxes a little bit. He wants to, he keeps almost getting there, but then he pulls back.”

“So we can’t come at him straight. We have to get him used to just being with us first. I’ve got an idea.”

* * *

Squip’s phone is vibrating. He’s in a meeting and trying to concentrate, but the quiet buzz of his phone is driving him crazy. He reaches to silence it, but sees Jeremy’s name on the display. “Excuse me,” Squip says, heading out into the hallway.

“Jeremy,” he greets when he answers, not quite successful in keeping the warmth out of his voice. “An unexpected surprise, but a pleasant one.”

“Hey, Squip, you busy? Michael and I could use some consultation. We’re having trouble coming to a decision, so of course we thought of you. Can you swing by Michael’s place? We’re both here.” Jeremy sounds a little more nervous than usual, but Squip supposes that could be a result of whatever issue he and Michael are currently tackling. Uncertainty really is the worst.

“I’m just finishing up a meeting, I can be there in an hour?” Squip will have to email Doris and have her shift his last two appointments to another day.

“An hour works. Do you have a pen, I’ll give you the address--”

“I’ve got it. I’ll see you in an hour, Jeremy.” Squip hangs up and shoots a quick email to his secretary, not bothering to give her an explanation. She’s clever. She’ll find something to tell his clients about his absence.

He heads back into his meeting and resumes his seat. “I’m leaving in 35 minutes, whether you’re finished or not. I recommend that you get to your point,” Squip says flatly to the man presenting some nonsense about an expansion project for Squip’s office. He has no desire to expand or hire more consultants to take clients he doesn’t have time for, but his parents had insisted that he at least attend the presentation meeting, and decide once he had all the available information. So here he is.

The man stammers out an acknowledgement and fumbles with the projector remote, accidentally skipping past the next slide. Squip keeps his expression neutral, though he’s thoroughly unimpressed. When Jeremy flails around, it’s cute, almost endearing. But watching someone else do it just makes Squip want to say something cruel and leave immediately.

The nervous little man is very lucky Squip has such strong self-control.

* * *

The meeting had wrapped up early, once it became clear that none of the project team’s ideas were landing or resonating with Squip at all, especially after their presenter had started flubbing his prepared speeches almost constantly. Squip had been embarrassed for the man, just watching the train wreck happen.

Squip pulls into Michael’s driveway well within the hour he’d quoted Jeremy, and takes a moment to check his hair in the mirror of his visor. He looks the same as always, which, to Squip, is just right. At the door he stops again to make sure his jacket and shirt are as wrinkle free as possible. He’d left his tie in the car, and he unbuttons the button at his collar. Then buttons it again. Then huffs, looking down at himself, and unbuttons two buttons instead. There. Casual, confident, a little sexy, but not off-putting. Perfect. He rings the doorbell.

Jeremy is the one who answers, despite it being Michael’s home. He gives Squip a single, helpless once-over, checking him out from head to toe, and Squip stands a little straighter at the flush the blooms on Jeremy’s sweet freckled cheeks. Squip will never get tired of the way Jeremy reacts to him.

“You made it, come in,” Jeremy says once he remembers he’s supposed to be talking, not ogling his guest. “Michael’s downstairs. The basement is kinda our zone.” He steps aside and waves Squip through the door. “Take your shoes off, though. Michael’s moms would kill us all if they came home and saw shoe prints on their nice clean carpets.”

“Alright,” Squip agrees easily, bending to remove his shoes and line them up neatly beside Michael’s and Jeremy’s. It’s a little odd to be in a full suit, and just socks, but Squip figures he won’t be here long anyway. He’ll just solve whatever little issue has cropped up, and be on his way.

Squip follows Jeremy down into the basement, not surprised to find it finished, cozy, and decorated like a crazy cross between a bedroom and a second living room. There’s one overstuffed couch in the center of the room, flanked by two arm chairs. A table and an entertainment center with a rather impressive tv set up finish the space. There are posters for obscure, old horror and sci-fi films all over the walls, and crates full of VHS tapes that Squip doesn’t need to check to know contain nothing but B movies, at best. The whole entertainment center is crammed with haphazard stacks of old game cartridges, and Michael is currently curled up in an armchair playing some old 16-bit zombie slashfest that Squip doesn’t recognize.

Michael pauses as Squip comes down the creaking stairs. “Hey man, welcome to the party! Come hold down this couch for me.”

Squip sits down, and the couch basically eats him, sinking him down into the fluffy softness. “Jeremy said you needed consultation.” He shifts awkwardly, trying to get _less_ comfortable, but slowly surrenders to the will of the couch, relaxing into it.

“Oh, yeah, for sure. We have some serious shit going on right now. Jeremy, why don’t you hit him with your question?” Michael reaches for a small box on the side of his armchair and flips the lid open. Squip is immediately hit with the sweetly acrid smell of weed, totally unsurprised when Michael starts rolling a joint with the speed of someone who’s been doing it for years.

The other armchair is free, but Jeremy sits on the couch with Squip, barely an arm’s length away from him despite ample room to be much further away. “Right, right. Michael and I were arguing a bit ago, couldn’t agree. So I thought hey, we have a consultant. Let’s get some consultation.”

“Okay. I’ll help you however I can, you know that.”

“Remember you said that.” Jeremy folds his legs up on the couch, hooking his arms around his skinny knees. It’s charming. “Mario, or Sonic?”

“I’m sorry?”

“My question,” Jeremy says slowly, like Squip is the idiot here, “Is whether you prefer Mario, or Sonic. We can’t agree, and we need you to break the tie.”

Squip took a wrong turn somewhere and ended up in another fucking dimension where this is a normal conversation to have, he’s sure. Looking around, he realizes that he’s actually not far from the truth. This little basement hideout is like another world already. “Alright…Well. Off the top of my head, Mario. He’s classic, his games have stayed consistently good, and Sonic has an attitude that aims for chill and lands on irritating. Sonic games are hit and miss. Let’s face it, the best Sonic games are the ones that also include Mario.”

“Oh, yes,” Michael crows triumphantly, “I knew you were a nerd under all that cool shit, sweetheart, fuck yes.”

“What are you so happy about, he’s siding with me,” Jeremy points out with a pleased little smile.

“I’m willing to forgive that. What can I say, I’m a generous man. Speaking of which, my turn.” He holds the freshly rolled joint out to Squip. “My question is, whether this shit is as good as I think it is. Can’t decide.”

“Weed is illegal,” Squip answers almost primly.

“So call the cops. Come on.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Jeremy says softly beside him, shifting onto his knees and suddenly very much in Squip’s space. Squip instinctively turns toward him, breathing in Jeremy’s ripe-peach scent.

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” Squip explains. “I just haven’t smoked in years. I’ll choke.”

“I got you, man. Here, get comfortable, ditch that jacket for me. You look like you’re about to dip out and head to someone’s funeral.” Michael grabs his lighter out of the box and puts the box aside, then joins the other two men on the couch, getting cozy right next to Squip, forcing him to scoot closer to Jeremy to make room. The big alpha is throwing off heat like a furnace. Fuck, but Michael could get used to this.

Squip slides his jacket off and folds it over the arm of the couch, then hesitates a beat before reaching down to remove his socks as well. “You said get comfortable. I can’t stand socks,” Squip confesses at Michael’s questioning look.

“Look at you, thinking ahead. I love that you took extra steps to make yourself more comfortable, that’s so good,” Michael praises, smiling fondly when Squip’s eyes go heavy-lidded and dazed for a few seconds.

“So what do you want me to do?” Squip asks once his brain clicks back online.

“You ever shotgun before?”

“No.”

“It’ll mellow out the smoke some if you take your hit right off me, if you don’t mind being right in my face.”

At this point, it’s safe to say Squip has proven he doesn’t mind much of anything, when it comes to Michael and Jeremy. He doesn’t say it, just shakes his head and leans a little closer.

“Cool,” Michael says, lighting up. The drag he takes is impressive. He holds it for a while, then waves Squip forward, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him closer when Squip hesitates. Squip’s lips part, and Michael blows a steady stream of smoke into his mouth.

“Inhale,” Jeremy instructs, lightly touching Squip’s back.

Squip breathes deep, the burn of smoke in his throat something he’d forgotten, but Michael was right, it’s not as harsh as he was expecting. He holds it as long as he can, a respectable amount of time for a first attempt after so long, then exhales, only coughing a little on the way out.

“One more?” Michael offers.

“Yes, thank you,” Squip agrees, clearing his throat.

They repeat the process, and it’s even easier this time. Squip doesn’t cough at all, swallowing down the little tickle in his throat.

“See how that treats you for a bit, let me know if you want to go again. Check this out.” Michael passes the joint over to Jeremy so he can join the fun, and then unpauses the game, spending a few minutes describing exactly which zombie-re-killing adventure he’s on this time, and why this game from 1989 is so much better than the remake in the early 2000’s.

Squip is mostly following the conversation, until he suddenly isn’t. Michael’s voice fades to pleasant background noise, and Squip can’t stop staring at Michael’s hands, flicking between the motions of his fingers and the action happening on the screen. Michael has the most beautiful hands he’s ever seen.

“You okay, Squip?” Jeremy touches his arm, and he also has the most beautiful hands Squip has ever seen.

“He’s feeling it. That was quick. It really had been a while, huh man?”

“Three years, I think?” Squip is melting into the couch now, fusing into some kind of human-couch hybrid, and he’s good with that. It’s just, he’s burning up. He rolls up his sleeves and pops open one more button on his shirt. It’s such a relief Squip moans a little, head falling into a lazy loll on the back of the couch.

“Jesus,” Jeremy whispers, watching him. Why is everything Squip does so effortlessly sexy? It’s unfair, Jeremy’s heart can’t take it. Or his dick can’t. Something.

Squip floats there for some amount of time he’s not concerned about checking, tuning in and out of Michael’s game, bathing in the scents of the three of them combined, the sharp scent of the pot overlaying all of it. It’s strong, but not unpleasant.

He stirs, and Michael glances over. “Want another?”

Squip nods, listing into Michael’s side like he’s moving through a dream. Michael smells so good, cinnamon-spicy and clean, and he’s soft and warm everywhere Squip touches him. Squip doesn’t even realize Michael has a lungful of smoke until he tilts Squip’s face to receive it. Squip, in a hurry to help, miscalculates, and ends up with more of a kiss than a shotgun. The two of them freeze for a second, then Michael slowly exhales, and Squip takes the smoke in, but doesn’t shift back, his lips dragging softly over Michael’s. Michael presses against him in the faintest return of a kiss, and Squip turns to exhale, then turns back to give Michael a proper kiss, deep and hot.

Michael purrs into Squip’s mouth, and Squip’s alpha instincts roar, kisses turning frantic, desperate, devouring. Squip has wanted this, he’s needed this, for so much longer than he’s ready to admit, and finally getting it is so sweet and so good that Squip never wants to stop.

They have to breathe, and when Michael pulls back to take a breath, Squip kisses his jaw instead, tugs his hoodie aside to bare his throat for sharp little nips that will bruise sweetly by morning. “Yes,” Michael pants, tilting his head back to give Squip more room to play.

“Oh my god,” Jeremy whispers, and Squip sucks one last mark into Michael’s throat before turning to the other alpha.

Squip is breathing hard, color in his cheeks, eyes dark with desire, and Jeremy squirms under that intense gaze, half-hard and trembling just from the attention. “Get over here,” Squip demands in a silky rumble.

“Yes, Squip,” Jeremy breathes, on his knees on the couch, moving well within kissing range.

“Right here,” Squip says, patting his lap, where his cock is clearly starting to fill, ruining the line of his perfectly pressed suit pants.

“Yes,” Jeremy says, obediently straddling Squip’s thighs.

  
”Holy fuck,” Michael mutters beside them, and when Jeremy looks at him, he’s rubbing himself through his pants, avidly watching the two of them.

“Jeremy,” Squip whispers, and Jeremy’s attention swings back to him immediately. “Offer me your mouth, Jeremy.”

Face flaming, stomach tense with excitement and arousal, Jeremy tilts his face up, closing his eyes and waiting patiently for Squip’s next move.

“Beautiful,” Squip says reverently. “You’re so beautiful, Jeremy.”

Jeremy stifles a whimper at the jolt of sharp, sweet arousal that nails him in the pit of his stomach, Squip’s approval better than the best porn he can think of. And then Squip finally, _finally_ kisses him. Squip kisses Jeremy like he’s conquering territory, claiming Jeremy’s mouth and his body in the same moment with his confident, knowing touch roving Jeremy’s back, his sides, his hips, his ass. Jeremy had been on his way to hard before, but now he’s aching, rocking restlessly in Squip’s lap, trying to find the friction he desperately craves.

“Already needy? You need to work on your self-control,” Squip teases gently.

“Maybe if you hadn’t made me wait so long, I wouldn’t be so crazy horny now,” Jeremy huffs, irritable and embarrassed.

Squip lifts Jeremy off his lap like he weighs as much as a doll, pushing him into the corner of the couch with a disapproving tsk. “Smart-mouthed boys don’t get their cocks touched,” Squip says sternly. “Would you agree, Michael?”

“That sounds right to me,” Michael says breathlessly, still palming the bulge of his erection. “That kind of behavior shouldn’t be rewarded.”

“I would be doing you a disservice if I gave in to you now,” Squip says with mocking regret.

“What? No! That’s not fair! Please, Squip.” Jeremy tries to crawl back into Squip’s lap, softly chanting “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Squip holds him off with ease that might embarrass Jeremy if he weren’t so preoccupied. “You’re sorry? Alright. I’ll give you a chance to show us how sorry you are for your smart little attitude.”

“Thank you,” Jeremy whimpers. “Just tell me what I can do.” All he wants is to be back in Squip’s good graces, to be beautiful for him again. He isn’t sure why he’s as rock hard as ever, when he’s in trouble and trying to make up for his big mouth, but something about the way Squip is praising him and petting him one minute, manhandling him and talking down to him the next is playing havoc with Jeremy’s libido, driving him crazy. It’s thrilling in the strangest way.

“Look at me, Jeremy,” Squip commands, petting his cheek. “Listen. If you want to stop, at any point, for any reason, simply say so. We’ll stop at once, and there will be no consequence. Do you understand?”

Jeremy nods, looking at Squip like he’s the center of the universe. Squip smiles, gently drawing his fingers through Jeremy’s soft brown hair. “Tell me what you understand, sweet boy.”

“I can stop anytime I want,” Jeremy starts, and Squip nods encouragingly. “I just have to say so. It’s okay if I do that.”

“Very good. That’s exactly right.” He pets Jeremy a moment longer, noting with pleasure that Jeremy is unashamedly leaning into his touch. “And Michael, the same thing goes for you. And myself. Any of us can stop this at any time.”

“Appreciated, but I’m pretty into it right now,” Michael says with a husky laugh.

“So am I. Now, Jeremy. Why don’t you take off your clothes for us.”

Jeremy scrambles to comply, tripping over his own feet in his eagerness and catching himself against the couch. There’s no enticement, no seduction as he pulls his clothes off, just shyness as he sneaks hopeful little glances at Squip, clearly wanting him to like what he sees. And Squip very much likes what he sees.

“Lovely, Jeremy,” Squip praises honestly. “You’re beautifully built, look at you. All of those slender angles and such perfect, soft skin. And what an impressive cock you’ve got.” With Jeremy naked, it’s easy to watch his cock twitch at the praise, and Squip files that away. “I would have loved to get my hands on you,” Squip sighs. “But you had to be a brat. Now you’ve deprived us both.”

“I’m sorry,” Jeremy says miserably, sweet blue eyes shining as he looks pleadingly at Squip. “Please let me show you.”

“Lie down here,” Squip instructs, rising to shift into one of the armchairs. Michael follows his example, leaving the couch clear for Jeremy to stretch out on his back, gloriously naked and trembling. “Very good,” Squip whispers, leaning forward to breathe in Jeremy’s uninhibited scent, heavy and sweet with his arousal. “You’re doing so well, Jeremy.”

“Thank you, Squip,” Jeremy says, squirming against the soft couch, hands curling restlessly into the cushions.

“You’re going to touch yourself now, Jeremy,” Squip orders, settling comfortably in his chair. “I want to see what you do when you’re alone. Naturally, you aren’t to come without permission. Begin.”

Jeremy lets out a shaky breath as he takes himself in hand, arching up with a little whine as he begins to stroke. He’s so slick already that Squip can see his skin glisten. Squip has never seen an alpha get wet like that, like their body is as good at getting wet as an omega’s. Heat floods Squip when he realizes he can smell it, the pleasing musk, the hint of salt. He knows the scent of Jeremy’s desire now, and he’ll never forget it.

“Fuck, oh god, Squip, Michael,” Jeremy’s toes are curling, his hips rocking up into his quickening strokes, his balls beginning to draw up. A flush of pleasure and need has swept down his neck and chest, his cute little nipples pink and hard and inviting. Squip imagines a perfect bite mark circling Jeremy’s nipple and his cock aches, straining against his fly.

“You’re getting close,” Squip remarks, keeping his voice neutral with considerable effort.

“Yes,” Jeremy pants, “oh fuck yes, please.”

“Put your hands down at your sides.”

Jeremy can’t hold back a tortured groan, but he obeys, putting his hands down.

“Tell me you’re sorry for running your mouth.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Squip, I won’t do it again, I’ll be good.” Jeremy gives him a look so sweet and earnest that Squip’s resolve wavers dangerously. For a moment, at least.

“Oh, I’m sure,” Squip replies with a superior little smirk. He waits a few moments, until Jeremy begins to relax. “Begin.”

Jeremy’s hand flies back to his cock, and he must be wildly sensitive, because he starts slowly and builds to his previous pace over a few apparently heated, blissful moments, judging by Jeremy’s low, ecstatic moans. He’s beautiful.

He isn’t the only one who’s gorgeous enough to steal Squip’s breath. Michael, glassy eyes fixed on Jeremy, seems to have finally given up pretense and started to please himself. Thanks to the oversized hoodie he’s wearing, Squip can’t see much, just the shadow of movement behind soft red fabric, but Michael’s face is a mask of arousal and dazed pleasure. He’s making sweet little noises in the back of his throat, helpless purrs and whimpers that make the alpha in Squip sit up and pant. But Squip has another task to see to just now. And from the pitch of Jeremy’s moans, he’s drawing close again. “Hands at your sides, Jeremy,” Squip instructs again, looking back at him.

“Please, please let me come,” Jeremy begs, hands fisted at his sides. “Please let me, I can’t take it anymore, I’m sorry, please.”

“Do you want to stop the game, Jeremy?”

Jeremy pants quietly for a few moments, then shakes his head. “Fuck. No. No, keep going.”

“Begin.” Squip is relieved Jeremy didn’t want to stop. It would be a shame if Squip didn’t get to see him come, after all this.

Jeremy tenses almost immediately this time, arching his back, working his hips. His knot is just hinting at forming, a gentle swelling at his base that Squip promises himself he’ll explore next time. If there is a next time. Jeremy most likely comes beautifully when his knot is properly stimulated.

“Oh god, oh god, I’m c-close, Squip, I’m close,” Jeremy warns, slowing his hand in anticipation of being told to stop.

“You’ve been so well-behaved, Jeremy. You may come.”

He’s barely finished speaking before Jeremy chokes out “thank you” and goes rigid, every inch of his body involved and dedicated to pushing out the intense, overwhelming climax Jeremy has been begging for. Jeremy cries out as quickly as he can draw breath, long, quavering sounds that make Squip’s cock ache in sympathy. Ropes of spend stripe Jeremy’s torso, one particularly enthusiastic shot reaching his throat, and Jeremy keeps rubbing himself long after he’s stopped ejaculating, coaxing out sweet, luxurious shudders that wrack his slender body for breathless moments.

When Jeremy finally falls still apart from his heaving chest, Squip stands up, knowing his erection is impossible to conceal. He doesn’t even try. In fact, he places a hand over his zipper, watching Jeremy’s eyes follow the motion. “Would you like to see me come, Jeremy?”

“Yes, yes please,” Jeremy begs, and Squip has precious little willpower left in reserve after the show Jeremy has treated him to.

“Where would you like me to come? You’ve more than earned the right to make a request.”

“On me, please, on my stomach,” Jeremy whispers, not so far gone that he can’t still summon up a shred of adorable shyness.

“You want our scents to blend, don’t you?” Any alpha would crave the same, and Squip himself is no exception. He understands. “Then…Michael. Why don’t you join me?”

“Oh god, yes, please, please Michael,” Jeremy says, reaching out to his boyfriend.

“Yeah, I’m down,” Michael says, getting up on legs that have gone visibly wobbly. “I got you, baby.”

Squip gets his pants open and draws his cock out, the relief of just that freedom pulling a rumble of pleasure from his throat. Jeremy looks at him, color flooding his cheeks in a fresh wave. “If I hadn’t just come my fucking brains out, I’d be getting hard again right now,” he confesses softly, like sharing a secret.

“What a compliment,” Squip replies, stepping closer. It’s been too long since he’d been this aroused for this long without relief, and he’s close already as he wraps a hand around his cock. Jeremy is a bit larger than Squip is, but Squip has never felt anything but perfectly pleased with his size, and given the hungry way both men are looking at him, Squip has no reason to feel any differently now.

He works himself with more efficiency than kindness, but it feels good just the same, and he pants out a warning to Jeremy, who tilts his head back to bare his throat and arch his back, presenting his flat belly and chest in an invitation that Squip’s instincts are helpless to refuse. Squip comes with a bitten off moan, adding to the mess on Jeremy’s stomach. Jeremy twitches and shivers like he’s surprised by the spurts of fresh heat. The satisfaction of marking Jeremy that way pulls another delicious, shivery pulse of pleasure from Squip, one last burst to mark Jeremy with.

Michael is only half a step behind Squip, just barely quick enough to tug his hoodie out of the way as he pumps out his climax over Jeremy’s flushed, smooth skin. Michael’s legs go weak with the orgasm, and he leans heavily on Squip, who steadies him gently.

Jeremy is covered in their scents, the combination of the three of them intoxicating to Squip’s sensitive nose. It must be good for Jeremy, too, his eyes sliding closed as he breathes in the heavy scent of them all. “Wonderful,” Squip praises, drawing his finger through the mess on Jeremy’s stomach. “Open that pretty mouth, sweet boy.”

Jeremy’s mouth falls open, his eyes glittering with a renewed arousal that his exhausted body simply isn’t ready to entertain. He sucks on the finger Squip presses into his mouth, the sharp taste of the three of them making him moan deep in his chest. Squip can’t help it, slips another finger into Jeremy’s mouth, memorizing the way Jeremy moans and sucks his fingers in as deep as he can, pliant and obedient, in subspace or alpha fog or some beautiful mix of both. The raw vulnerability Jeremy is trusting him with makes Squip feel ten feet tall, fiercely protective and dangerously affectionate.

“In a moment, I’ll ask you where the washcloths and towels are,” Squip says to Michael, who has wobbled himself back into a chair. But for now, Squip gets his clothes back into order and sits on the couch, pulling Jeremy’s upper body into his lap, Jeremy’s back to Squip’s front.

“I’ll get some stuff in a sec, just stay with him,” Michael says, still catching his breath.

Squip nods, then pets Jeremy’s sweaty hair, murmuring to him. “You did so well, Jeremy. I’m so pleased with you. Beautiful boy, how perfect you were for us. So good.” He rubs Jeremy’s arms, his shoulders, and Jeremy melts under the touch with a contented sigh, his gaze far away and hazy.

Michael bends to kiss Jeremy on his way out of the room, and Jeremy clumsily does his best to return the gesture. When Michael comes back, he’s presentable and freshly smelling of soap, carrying a couple damp washcloths and a fluffy towel.

They clean Jeremy up together with gentle touches and a wealth of praise, and it’s a long while before Jeremy stirs, stretching and nuzzling into Squip’s thigh, his legs in Michael’s lap. “Mm,” Jeremy says by way of hello.

“Back with us?” Michael asks, lazily rubbing Jeremy’s leg. “You drifted pretty far.”

“Yeah,” Jeremy answers, slowly sitting up, taking a moment to get coordinated enough to get his boxers back on. “Wow. That, uh. None of that went how I planned. I thought we were just gonna hang. I’m really happy it went this way,” Jeremy clarifies at the look on Squip’s face. “I’m really happy.”

“So am I,” Michael adds. “That was intense. Good intense.” He turns to look at Squip, expression grave. “Are you still going to pretend there’s nothing between us, Squip? That you doing that to Jeremy and then holding him for twenty fucking minutes didn’t mean anything?”

Squip lets his face go carefully blank, and can see by Michael’s frown that he’s unpleasantly familiar with Squip doing that. “I don’t know,” Squip says quietly, hands in his lap. “I don’t know what to do right now. I don’t know what this means.”

“Squip, please,” Michael says, and when Squip risks a glance at him, he and Jeremy are holding hands, offering each other solidarity and support. Squip’s chest goes tight, and he looks away, tucking his hands between his knees just to have something to do with them. “Squip. You know what this means. You know what this is. I know you do.”

“No, I don’t,” Squip insists.

“I felt something when we met,” Jeremy adds, speaking softly, but with steel in his voice. “I wasn’t just responding to a handsome face and nice scent, Squip. It was more. Like I knew you. Tell me you didn’t feel that, tell me you don’t feel it now. The call. It’s in all the books, all the classes. True m--”

“That’s not real. It’s just a story everyone tells, so people feel the hope that there’s someone out there who...” Squip trails off, then shakes his head. “It isn’t real.” He picks his socks up off the floor and stuffs them in his pocket, then grabs his jacket. “I have to go. I should go.”

“Squip.” Michael reaches out a hand. “Don’t do this. Give us a chance. Give this a chance.”

“I have to think. I’m sorry, I just need to think. I’ll--I’ll call you.” Squip stumbles up the stairs in his rush to get out of there, the air that had been pleasantly warm a moment ago choking him now, the walls closing in. Upstairs, he shoves his feet into his shoes and is in his car a moment later.

He doesn’t relax even a fraction until he’s put a few blocks between himself and the Mell house. Squip’s heart is pounding like someone just pulled a gun on him, and he’s dizzy with the sudden flood of adrenaline that’s slowly ebbing away. “I just need to think,” he announces to the empty car. “This isn’t…it’s not special. It won’t be different. It can’t be.”

It _can’t_ be. Squip can find a way to make them understand that this can’t work. He can make them understand. He just has to think.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the cliffhangery ending of this chapter, and the bitter note it ends on! Bear with me! It will get better soon!


	7. Chapter 7

“I’m ready to talk,” Squip says when Michael answers the phone a few days later, completely bypassing the standard ‘hello’. He has to move quickly. Squip isn’t sure how long his courage will hold out. “Can you and Jeremy come to my home? I’d like to see you both.”

There is silence on the other end for such a long time that Squip pulls the phone away from his cheek and checks that the call hasn’t dropped. “Are you sure, man?” Michael’s voice is gentle and free of judgement, and Squip feels a knot ease in his gut. He hadn’t realized how worried he had been that Michael wouldn’t take his call at all, after how he left them. Or that if Michael did answer, it would only be to tell Squip off.

“I’m sure. Can you head over now?”

“Hold on.” There’s a rustling, and Squip can hear the sounds of a muffled conversation, Michael talking and a higher voice that is immediately recognizable as Jeremy’s. A moment later, Michael is back. “Yeah, we can come now. What’s your address, I’ll plug it in the GPS.”

Squip recites his address, and the call is over. He waits for the nerves to set in, for the urge to call back and change his mind, but it doesn’t come. Squip really does want to see them, and clear the air. He’s regretted how he ran out on them ever since he’d done it, but at the time, it was the only thing he could think to do. Now, he has to explain. Even if nothing comes of it, he at least owes them that.

* * *

“Oh for fuck’s sake!” Michael shouts when they pull up in Squip’s long, long, ridiculously long driveway. “It’s a lair. This is a super villain lair. Jeremy, we’re here to get tied up and threatened with lasers, I guarantee it.”

“I think you’re right. I bet he has a water pit full of sharks in his living room.” Jeremy gets out of the car and looks up at Squip’s house--mansion--lair. It’s two floors from what Jeremy can tell at first glance, a sprawling building set back on a huge, rolling lawn. The house itself is as much glass as it is actual house, wide windows dominating many of the walls and offering a glimpse inside at the tasteful, modern furnishings. There seem to be two chimneys rising from the roof, and Jeremy can bet one of them is from the master bedroom. It seems like that kind of place.

They walk up the stone path leading to the door and Jeremy rings the bell, rolling his eyes at the elaborate chime that follows, sounding like it would be more at home in a church bell than a private home. Squip must have been waiting for them, because the door opens almost immediately. Jeremy’s chest goes tight just at the sight of Squip, and that same ancient instinct he’s been feeling since they met rises up again and chants ‘mine, mine, _mine._ ’ It hurts to push that away, but after how Squip reacted to them days ago…Jeremy doesn’t even know what Squip wants, or how this is going to go.

“Jeremy. Michael. Thank you for coming,” Squip says stiffly, moving his big body aside so the two of them can come in. He’s barefoot, Jeremy sees, and he stops to take his shoes off without asking, leaving them in the entryway. Michael does the same, and together they follow Squip deeper into the house.

The entryway isn’t carpeted, and Jeremy doesn’t expect the rest of the house to be, but when they get to the living room his toes sink into plush grey carpet that is so thick and so soft it almost feels like fur, or a blanket. It makes sense that Squip would splurge on carpet like this, since he’d told them that he doesn’t prefer to wear shoes or socks.

The strangest thing about the space is the sunken pit in the center of the room. There’s a small set of steps leading down into the pit, and inside, it’s lined with cushions, like a big square couch that the floor started eating. The pit isn’t the only place to sit in the room, but Jeremy makes a beeline for it, and is rewarded when the soft black microfiber just cradles him as soon as he sits down. “Oh, that’s great,” Jeremy sighs.

“Have you never seen a conversation pit before?” Squip asks, watching Jeremy get cozy with a small smile.

“Where the fuck would I have seen one of these? You’re the only person I’ve ever met that would have something this ridiculously awesome and totally unnecessary.”

Michael shrugs and heads down into the pit to settle next to Jeremy on the endless couch. “Fuck yeah, dude. This is pretty sweet. Weird as shit, though. So, on brand.”

“Thank you?” Squip comes down into the pit as well, but stays on the side near the steps, giving Jeremy and Michael plenty of space. And that hurts too, Jeremy can’t ignore. He just wants this weird feeling between the three of them to go away. Things had been so easy before, felt so natural and easy, and now all this tension feels like it’s smothering them all.

“I asked you both to come here because I owe you an explanation for my behavior last week. Perhaps for my behavior for…a while.” Squip looks softer than usual today with his bare feet, black lounge pants, and blue shirt that would probably drown Jeremy or Michael, but on Squip looks like it barely fits.

The nervous look on his face makes Jeremy ache to comfort him, but it can wait. They’re here to listen. “I’ve been behaving poorly,” Squip continues. “Unfairly. And I want to explain to you why that is.” He stops and clears his throat, picking at a loose thread of the couch.

“Hey, it’s okay, Squip. Just take your time. We’re not going anywhere,” Jeremy encourages softly.

Squip huffs a frustrated sigh and sits up straighter, bracing himself. “No, I want to tell you. I want you to know. It’s just humiliating.” He fights himself for another few seconds, then blurts, “I’ve been in love before. Twice, in fact. I failed, both times.”

Michael holds up a hand to stop him. “What do you mean, you failed?”

“I failed, Michael. I couldn’t keep my partners interested and satisfied. Utter failure.”

“Can you tell us more about how you feel you failed, exactly?” Michael asks carefully.

“When I was in high school, there was a girl. An omega. I…I adored her, I couldn’t believe my luck, that she’d chosen to be with me. I did everything I could think of to make her happy, but. It wasn’t enough.” Squip isn’t looking at either of them now, his gaze fixed on nothing, mind far away and somewhere dark. “Alphas are taught that our instincts will lead us correctly, that we’ll know how to take care of omegas when the time comes, what to do to keep them happy and show them the respect they deserve. But when I had the chance to prove myself worthy, I failed. She told me one day that she’d chosen me for my popularity, hoping for a boost in her own. I failed to provide that for her. So she left. The only thing in the world that she wanted, and I failed to give it to her.”

Michael and Jeremy trade a look. “Squip, that wasn’t your fault, she was using you for--”

“No, you’re not listening,” Squip says, interrupting Michael. “That wasn’t the last time I failed like that.” A tear rolls down his cheek, and Squip quickly wipes it away, sniffling quietly. “I did it again the next year. I thought that my first horrible attempt at dating had become common knowledge by then, and didn’t expect to ever get another chance. So I was thrilled when an omega boy asked me out. Of course I said yes.” Another tear slips from the corner of his eye, and he rubs it away like he’s angry at himself. He laughs a little, watery and bitter, and continues. “I found out a few months in that he was more interested in my name than in me. But I thought that if I could treat him well, make him happy, it wouldn’t matter that I’m an Alton-Forester. He would just…love _me_. Of course, when he found out that I’m the black sheep of the family and had no real connections to speak of, he was gone. I heard he made a pass at my sister at some point, but she turned him down.”

“Jesus, Squip,” Michael cries. “Sweetheart, _none_ of that was your fault. Those bitches were assholes.”

Squip shakes his head, wrapping his arms protectively around himself. How can a man that big make himself look so small? “You don’t understand. If I was a better alpha, I would have been able to make them happy. That’s why things can’t work between us. You might think you like me now, but…I would only disappoint you.”

Jeremy can’t take it another second. He moves across the pit and kneels in front of Squip, putting his hands on those broad shoulders. “Squip, I’m so, so sorry those people did that to you. You didn’t deserve it, I promise. You did nothing wrong.” Squip opens his mouth, but Jeremy powers ahead before he can argue. “I know that because of how you treat me, and how you treat Michael. You’ve been so good to us, and we’ve loved being around you.”

Michael moves closer too, easing up next to Squip and tugging gently until Squip unfolds, putting his arm around Michael instead of hugging himself. “We just want to be as good to you as you’ve been to us, Squip.” Michael says gently. “You deserve to be taken care of, and loved. And I think…I think we want to do that for you. With you.”

Squip starts to shake his head again, and Jeremy catches his face between his hands, cradling him tenderly. “Squip. I know you’re scared. I’m a little scared, too. This is big. But…if you want to try. If you want to give us a chance, I just want you to know, you can trust us. You can have this.” Jeremy leans forward and presses a soft kiss to Squip’s forehead, and something seems to break in Squip, some vital valve creaking open, because Squip shakes under his hands, and a sob tears free of him.

There are no more single tears struggling their way free. The dam has broken, and all the pain and sadness Squip has been holding in is pouring free in a torrent of tears and gasping, wracking sobs. “Please don’t leave,” Squip begs, breaking Jeremy’s heart into jagged shards. “Don’t leave me, please.”

“We’re not going anywhere,” Michael promises, kissing the tears off Squip’s wet cheeks. “I promise, Squip, we aren’t leaving. We care about you so much.”

Squip cries for a long while, and Jeremy and Michael hold him through it all. At some point, Squip had moved, laying against Michael’s chest with Jeremy draped over his back. Squip is sandwiched safely between the two of them, with Jeremy rubbing soothing circles over his back, and Michael stroking his neck, his ears, his jaw.

Once Squip begins to calm down, he sits up, wiping at his face and avoiding their gazes, embarrassed by his lack of control. “Hey,” Jeremy says, “Can I kiss you? Just a little one.”

Squip looks at Jeremy with wide, shocked eyes, like he’d expected Jeremy to never want to touch him again. “Please,” he answers softly.

Jeremy kisses him with the gentleness of a butterfly landing, brushing his lips over Squip’s, all comfort and reassurance instead of heat. Jeremy finishes with a light peck, and pulls back with a smile. He considers it a victory when Squip returns it, however weakly he does so.

“You look exhausted, man,” Michael says, looking Squip over. “No surprise. You went through a lot today. You should be proud, you were really brave.”

“I am tired, but…I don’t know, I feel really keyed up, too. Jittery.”

Michael hums. “How long has it been since you got your shit taken care of by an omega? Ever let one put you all the way down in alpha fog?”

Squip rubs the back of his neck, wincing, and Jeremy knows he’s about to say something that’s going to make Michael very, very unhappy. “It’s been…four years?”

“Squip, you know that isn’t healthy.” Michael takes his hand, giving it a little squeeze. “If you trust us, I’d like to get that fixed for you, okay? Alpha fog will relax you, hopefully enough to sleep, and even if it doesn’t, it’s good for you either way.”

“Will you both be here?”

“If you want us to be. I can stay or go, whatever makes you comfortable,” Jeremy answers.

“I want you both to be here. I want to give this a chance. The three of us. I want to stop pushing you away.” Squip finds Jeremy’s hand with his free one, and the sweetness of him wanting to hold on to both of them just makes Jeremy melt.

“Okay. Then I’ll stay. Thank you for trusting us, Squip.” Jeremy wipes away a few tears of his own, relieved and so happy he doesn’t know how to handle all the good pouring in all of a sudden. This is better than Jeremy dared hope for.

“Alright, when you’re ready, Squip. I want you to get comfortable. Lie down, stretch out, whatever you want to do to get comfortable.” Michael is a little nervous, really feeling the enormity of being the first omega to do this for Squip in far too long. And after what Squip had said about his past, it’s unlikely that he’s ever had this done properly. Michael has his work cut out for him.

Squip lies down along one side of the pit, stacking a cushion beneath his head as a pillow, then gives Michael a nod to continue. “I’m ready.”

“Here we go, then.” Michael lowers his voice, quiet enough that Squip has to focus all his attention to hear him. His voice is calm and sweet, spreading through Squip’s frazzled mind like a cooling balm. “You’re doing wonderfully, Squip. Just relax, don’t worry about anything now. Nothing can hurt you here. You’re safe, and you deserve that. You’re loved, and you deserve that.”

Squip sighs dreamily and his eyelids flutter, his face going a little dazed and peaceful. Jeremy can see that he’s already well on his way to gone, and wonders what that must feel like, to just sink right into fog like that. Michael has always taken good care of Jeremy, so he’s never gone more than a few weeks without that fuzzy warmth filling his head up with cotton. He’s never been starved for it like Squip is. He touches Squip’s hand, and it’s a surprise when Squip not only holds onto him, but pulls Jeremy down until he’s lying beside Squip, curled warmly against him. Squip sighs again and nuzzles Jeremy’s hair, scenting him and humming happily.

“I love it when you make yourself comfortable, Squip,” Michael praises. “You’re amazing, so handsome and strong, and one of the sweetest alphas I’ve ever met. Just relax for me, let yourself sink. That’s it, perfect.”

Squip whines softly, more breath than sound, and flops his hand toward Michael in the most uncoordinated grab he’s ever seen. But Michael can take a hint. “Alright, here I come.” Michael stretches out on Squip’s other side, resting his hand on Squip’s chest to feel the steady, calm thud of his heart. Squip nuzzles into him with a little purr, rubbing his cheek against Michael’s. He smiles crookedly and closes his eyes.

“You’re doing great, Squip,” Jeremy chimes in, head on Squip’s shoulder. “We’re right here with you.”

“That’s right,” Michael agrees. “We’re here, and we’re not going anywhere, baby. Thank you for letting us do this for you, letting us help you feel so safe and good, just like you deserve, like you always should feel.”

Squip is fully fogged now, lying on his back, face slack and body relaxed. The only way Michael can tell he’s not sleeping is because his eyes open every so often, glazed and glossy and staring at nothing. Michael keeps murmuring to him for a while, rubbing the center of his chest, keeping him relaxed and down as deep into the alpha fog as he can be.

Some time later, Squip stops opening his eyes, and his breathing evens out. “He’s out,” Michael whispers, looking across Squip’s body to see Jeremy looking plenty sleepy himself.

“Yeah. I’m glad, I was worried he wouldn’t be able to relax,” Jeremy whispers back, trying to shake himself out of his daze. But he’s so comfortable snuggled between the back of the couch pit and Squip’s warm, solid body. He could fall asleep right here.

“I can’t believe he finally agreed to give us a shot,” Michael says with a triumphant smile, dropping a kiss on Squip’s shoulder. “I’m going to find his exes and beat their fucking asses, I know that.”

“I know, what assholes. How could anybody not love him?” Jeremy freezes, realizing what he just said out loud.

“You’re right, Jer. How could anyone not love him?” Michael shushes Squip gently as Squip stirs a little, mumbling something in his sleep. “We’re right here,” Michael soothes, rubbing his chest again until Squip settles.

Jeremy nuzzles back down into Squip’s shoulder, and Michael just keeps petting Squip, whispering to him whenever he starts to mutter. Squip falls into a deeper sleep at some point, and Michael can hear Jeremy’s tiny snores on Squip’s other side. Both of his alphas--IS Squip his alpha, now?--all relaxed and sleepy beside him satisfies something deep in his omega brain, and the soothing effect has Michael on his way to sleep before he knows it. Two of the most important men in his life are right here with him, and they’re all on the same page. For the first time in weeks, Michael knows everything is going to be okay. Better than okay. _Wonderful_.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please check the updated tags. There is a bit of dubious consent in this chapter, sort of. It's a consensual dubious consent, but if that's going to bother you, please skip this chapter! You won't be missing much but a little emotional stuff, and some nookie!

Jeremy swims slowly up toward wakefulness, his nose filled with the scent of home, of fresh clean water and spicy sweetness, feelings of safety and security making his limbs loose. His head is pillowed on solid warmth, and Jeremy remembers what happened all in a rush, sitting up slowly. Squip is still sleeping, one strong arm wrapped tightly around Michael, who is curled into Squip’s side.

As if he can feel Jeremy’s eyes on him, Squip blinks awake, nuzzling Michael’s soft curls before turning to look at the other alpha. “Hey there,” Squip whispers, holding out a hand, linking his fingers with Jeremy’s. “You’re still here.”

“Just like we promised,” Jeremy says with a gentle smile.

Squip kisses the inside of Jeremy’s wrist, nipping over the soft thrum of his pulse. “I believed you.” He feels Jeremy’s pulse leap beneath his lips, and looks up to see Jeremy’s beautiful blue eyes trained on Squip’s mouth, color filling his cheeks. “May I kiss you, Jeremy?” Squip purrs, half for the pleasure of watching the pink in Jeremy’s cheeks turn to a lovely red as his blush deepens.

Instead of answering, Jeremy leans down and kisses Squip. He puts everything he’s been feeling into that kiss, all the heat and need and building affection. Squip groans beneath him, and his arms wind around Jeremy. Beside them, Michael grumbles and rolls grumpily away from the disturbance they’re making. Jeremy and Squip share a fond smile, then they’re kissing again, Jeremy losing himself in the softness of Squip’s mouth and the intoxicating power of his scent.

Jeremy doesn’t know when his belly goes from full of butterflies to tight with arousal, isn’t aware of how hard his cock is until Squip shifts and his thigh rubs against Jeremy just so, pulling a startled moan from his lips. He grinds down a little without thinking, chasing the sensation and muffling his helpless noises with Squip’s kisses.

“Damn.” Squip whispers the curse, pulling away, pupils wide with need in his deep brown eyes. “Take your pants off, sweet boy. Let me put my mouth on you.” He sits up, pushing Jeremy onto his back and crawling between his legs. Between the two of them pushing and tugging, they manage to get Jeremy’s pants down. Squip is wound too tight to bother getting them all the way off. If he doesn’t get Jeremy in his mouth in the next few minutes, he’s going to scream.

Squip closes his eyes for a moment, breathing in the sharp scent of Jeremy, turned on and ready. The scent goes through Squip like a touch, drawing a shiver to his skin, making his mouth positively water for a taste of that concentrated summery peachiness, salt-sharp arousal overlaying it all. “You smell incredible,” he whispers, wondering how he ever thought he could deny the overwhelming _rightness_ of that scent, the immediate, impossible familiarity. Squip is ready to admit it now; Jeremy and Michael smell like _home._

“Please,” Jeremy whispers back. “Squip, please, touch me.” When Squip looks up, Jeremy’s eyes are desperate, his lips bitten red and so inviting that Squip can’t resist coming up for another sweet kiss. He pushes up Jeremy’s shirt on his way back down, taking a brief detour to lay a trail of biting kisses down the center of Jeremy’s chest and the plane of his flat stomach, nuzzling the tender join of hip and thigh, covering himself in Jeremy’s scent with pure alpha pleasure.

By the time Squip returns his attention to Jeremy’s beautiful cock, Jeremy has begun to leak, silky drops slicking the pale skin of his belly. Squip makes a hungry sound and runs his tongue through the mess, moaning low in his throat at the taste of Jeremy. He needs more. Squip flicks his tongue over Jeremy’s tip in a wicked tease just to watch him writhe, and the broken little whimper Jeremy can’t hold back just encourages Squip to do it again, and again.

“Please!” Jeremy groans it through gritted teeth, louder than he means it to be judging by his frantic glance toward Michael, still curled on his side as far away from them as possible. “Don’t tease me,” Jeremy begs more quietly, “please, Squip. I need you.”

“I’ll take care of you,” Squip promises, mercifully bringing an end to the teasing as he slowly surrounds Jeremy’s dick in the slick heat of his mouth, easily taking him halfway in one smooth motion. Jeremy’s head kicks back as he arches, panting out a harsh breath that would have been a moan if he wasn’t trying so hard not to disturb Michael.

Squip begins a slow, steady rhythm, as much for himself as Jeremy. It’s been a long time since he did anything like this, and Jeremy is something special. If Squip is going to take him all the way, he’s going to have to really pull out all the stops.

“Fuck, that’s pretty,” Michael says blearily, patting his pockets. Squip jumps, chokes a little, and Jeremy makes a sound between a yelp and a moan that is equal parts alarming and sexy. “No, don’t stop, I just want to watch and--where the fuck--ha!” Michael triumphantly holds up his phone. “Can I snap a pic? Personal use only, scout’s honor.”

“I don’t care, ohhhh fuck, he’s so good at this,” Jeremy gasps, his eyes rolling shut as Squip swallows him a little deeper.

“Oh, I know he is,” Michael says huskily. “Watching him take you apart like this is the hottest fucking thing I’ve seen since approximately forever. Squip? Can I take a picture?”

Squip holds up a finger, telling Michael to wait, and takes a deep breath through his nose. Jeremy gives an utterly wrecked, blissful moan as Squip slowly swallows him whole. “Oh my god,” Jeremy whimpers, “I’ve never, this is, oh fuck, _Squip!_ ” He can feel Squip’s throat contracting around him as Squip swallows, and every inch of him is surrounded by wet heat, Squip’s wicked tongue pressing just right into the beginnings of swelling at Jeremy’s base.

Michael is so entranced by the show that he almost doesn’t notice when Squip flashes him a thumbs up. “I can take a picture?” Michael confirms. Squip does it again, a muffled “mm-hmm” making Jeremy groan at the vibration. Michael fumbles open his camera app and snaps a chain of pics from a couple angles, intending to decide on the keeper later. After he’s done enjoying the live viewing.

It’s not long before Squip has to pull back to take a few ragged breaths, but after a moment, he’s back at it, bobbing more quickly than before, taking Jeremy as deep as he can with every motion. Jeremy is coming undone beneath him, his moans devolving into high, desperate cries as he nears his climax.

“Squip, I--close,” Jeremy warns. Squip takes him deep one last time, swallowing around him as he feels Jeremy’s cock begin to twitch, his cries peaking with each wave of his orgasm.

Squip swallows every drop, and only pulls away when he has to breathe again, reluctant to let Jeremy go. He’d forgotten how much he always liked doing this, just pleasing someone, making them feel so good they can’t control themselves. Nothing makes Squip feel half as turned on, half as desired.

“That was gorgeous,” Michael says appreciatively, pulling Squip into a kiss the second his mouth is free. He’s not shy about enjoying the taste of Jeremy in Squip’s mouth, more aroused than he thought he’d be at the undeniable evidence of his alphas taking care of each other, wanting each other. It just makes Michael want them even more.

Jeremy lets out a long, sweet sigh followed by a deeply contented moan as he stretches, finally kicking off the pants that are still clinging to his ankles. “Mmm, Squip,” Jeremy says, slow and sweet, shooting him a dopey smile as Squip looks at him. “So good.”

“I know that tone,” Michael says with a grin. “You took good care of our man, Squip. He’s all blissed out, look at him. He’s fucking floating.” Squip lays back down beside Jeremy, who immediately cozies up against his side, soaking up the warmth Squip is throwing off like a heater. Squip reaches for Michael to drag him into the cuddle pile, but Michael has other ideas, it seems.

Michael’s eyes travel down Squip’s body, pausing on the obvious erection that his lounge pants are doing absolutely nothing to hide. “Why don’t you let me take care of you like you took care of Jeremy,” Michael offers, leaning over Squip to kiss him again, hand rubbing Squip skillfully through his pants.

Squip’s omega is a force of nature. One moment they’re kissing, and Michael is teasing him through his pants, the sensation muted by fabric. Then, Michael has pulled his cock out, and Squip is biting back a groan at the feeling of skin on skin, someone else’s hand on him after so long going without any touch but his own.

The sensation is blindingly intense, and Squip feels the strangest combination of fear and arousal he’s ever felt, just at the possibility of losing control of himself like Jeremy just did, the thought of being at Michael’s mercy like that both terrifying and titilating. “Michael,” Squip says weakly, making a grab for Michael’s wrist.

“I know,” Michael soothes, “I know it’s a lot, baby. Just let me take care of you. Let me be good to you. You’ve been so good to us, Squip, always taken care of us, like a good alpha should. Let me give back to you.”

Squip doesn’t answer, can’t bring himself to say yes, but he doesn’t want to say no. He drops his hand from Michael’s wrist, eyes fluttering closed as Michael gives him one slow stroke from base to tip. Heat courses through Squip, a delicious ache settling into his pelvis as Michael continues to stroke him, the fear of losing himself slipping away under the sheer pleasure of being touched.

Time goes fuzzy for Squip beneath the roll of sensation. He might have lain there panting and twitching for seconds, or hours. All he can hear is his own ragged breathing and the slick slide of Michael’s hand over him. All he can smell is his own sharp need, blending perfectly with the lingering scent of Jeremy’s. The moment might have stretched on forever, but for the sudden touch of wet warmth circling his sensitive cockhead, Squip’s eyes flying open as every muscle goes rigid.

Any other time, the sight of Michael’s pink tongue touching Squip’s skin would be nothing but sexy, but something is holding Squip back, telling him it’s not okay to just relax and let himself feel this, have this. That he’s doing something wrong by surrendering himself to such an indulgence. Michael no doubt felt Squip tense up, and he looks up, concern on his face as he rubs Squip’s thigh gently, like he can ease the tension in Squip’s whole body with that simple touch.

To his credit, it works. Squip takes a deep breath and deliberately relaxes his muscles, trying to remind himself that this is okay, that it isn’t like the other times. He doesn’t have to be perfect, doesn’t have to be selfless. Michael and Jeremy aren’t like the others. They want him to feel good. They want to take care of him.

No matter how hard he fights himself, Squip can’t bring himself to accept the gift Michael is offering. He can’t. He _can’t._ The struggle must show on his face, because Michael softly asks, “What do you need, sweetheart? Do you need me to stop?”

Squip lets out a frustrated groan and presses the heels of his hands to his eyes. “That’s not--Michael, I _can’t._ ”

“Can’t what? Hey, it’s okay. What can’t you do, Squip?”

Beside them, Jeremy stirs, pulls one of Squip’s hands away from his face just so Jeremy can hold it, giving him an encouraging smile when Squip looks at him. “I…I can’t just... _let_ you. I should be….it should be me pleasing you, not…This.”

Michael hums thoughtfully, then shrugs. “This is what would please me. And more importantly Squip, you deserve to lie back for once and just enjoy. But we don’t have time to unpack all that. This dick needs sucked like, stat. Jeremy, why don’t you scoot up there and keep our Squip company? Maybe get a little pressure on his arms, encourage him to just relax and let me handle things.”

They both pause for a second, checking Squip’s reaction, but Squip is only relieved, and thrilled that Michael hadn’t given up at the first sign of trouble, that he’d cared enough, wanted Squip enough, to try to solve the problem. Has he ever been _seen_ like this, accepted like this?

“Hey,” Jeremy says as he drapes himself across Squip’s broad chest, his weight a comfort. Slender fingers find Squip’s arms, exerting the faintest pressure, the suggestion of holding him down more than an actual restraint.

“Thank you,” Squip replies, shifting his arms just to feel Jeremy press down harder. “Thank you,” Squip says again, closing his eyes with a deep, relieved sigh.

“If you want me to move--”

“I’ll sit up,” Squip interrupts, having no illusions about Jeremy’s strength versus his own. There’s no way on earth Jeremy can truly hold Squip against his will, but just the gentle pressure of Jeremy pinning him is enough to silence the wounded voice in Squip’s brain that’s demanding Squip serve, instead of being seen to. With Jeremy holding him, Squip can pretend. He can imagine that this is happening outside his control, that he really has no choice but to lie back and let them have him.

“That’s perfect,” Jeremy says approvingly, and Squip feels a gentle press of lips to his forehead. “Just relax. We’ve got you. You’re going to feel so good, Squip.”

Squip can’t see, but imagines that some secret signal must pass between Jeremy and Michael, because Michael’s breath ghosts over his hip after a beat of silence. With the lull in stimulation, Squip’s erection had flagged, but Michael fixes that with a few brisk strokes that still feel incredible. Squip would be embarrassed at how quickly he’s full and hard, if not for the pleased purr Michael makes. All any alpha wants is for their omega to find them desireable, and Squip almost can’t believe he’s found that. After so long.

Bracing himself for it is all that keeps Squip from jumping at the first touch of Michael’s lips to his cock, but he can’t help tensing. Jeremy shushes him gently, murmurs sweetly in his ear and presses a little harder on his arms. Calm steals over Squip, and when Michael sinks his sweet mouth down a few precious inches, clever tongue caressing all Squip’s most sensitive spots, Squip just moans, low and raspy. Michael holds nothing back, clearly determined to drive Squip brutally, quickly, perfectly past his limit. His tongue never stops moving, cradling the underside of Squip’s flushed cock, swirling over his tip, pressing against his slit and making Squip shake at the shocks of electric pleasure crackling through his veins.

Michael’s hands are just as busy, pulling Squip’s pants down his thighs so Michael can slip a hand between his legs and cup his balls. Squip _whimpers_ , a sweet needy sound he hadn’t known he could make, when Michael rolls him carefully, deep throbs of pleasure pulsing through his lower body, his thighs, his belly, the aching hardness of his cock. He’d known intellectually what it could do for an alpha to be stimulated like this, warmed up and primed and ready to give everything to their omega, every precious drop their body could muster. Squip had _known_ , but he hadn’t understood what it would _feel_ like, how he would shake and sweat and _beg_ to come, unable to think of anything but how badly, how urgently he needs to come for Michael, _in_ Michael.

Michael pulls back to tease his tip again, wicked tongue making patterns over sensitive flesh that have Squip writhing so hard Michael has to steady him with a firm hand on his hip. “Please take me.” Squip pants the plea, looking down. He can barely see Michael past Jeremy, but he catches a flash of mischievous brown eyes and feels Michael rub his tongue into the sweet spot beneath the head, wrenching a groan from Squip’s chest. “Please,” he begs again, so close he can feel climax looming over him like a wave about to break against the shore. He’s awash with pleasure so deep it aches, but every alpha instinct demands that he give his pleasure to his omega, or have nothing at all. “I _need_ your mouth, Michael, take me, please!”

It happens so quickly. Squip is crying out, arching so hard he lifts Jeremy, sobbing with the rush of ecstasy before he’s even registered that Michael has swallowed his cock to the root. The orgasm shakes Squip’s entire body, so good, so overwhelmingly good, that all Squip can do is cry, sobbing with each hard shudder of a climax that seems endless.

Squip dimly realizes that Michael is setting Squip’s clothes to rights and coming up to lie beside him, Jeremy warming his other side. “I didn’t know,” Squip sniffles, wiping fresh tears away. “I didn’t know I could feel like that. I didn’t know I could feel that good.”

“I’m glad we could give you this.” Jeremy kisses Squip’s cheek, the salt of Squip’s tears on his lips. “I’ve wanted to see you come for so long. Since the restaurant at least.” He smiles, brushing another stray tear from Squip’s face. “It was worth the wait. You’re so sexy, Squip.”

“Beyond sexy.” Michael nuzzles into Squip’s shoulder, grumbling a little when Squip briefly dislodges him, but it’s just so that Squip can put an arm around him for better cuddling. “You trusted us, and I won’t forget that, baby.” He rubs the center of Squip’s chest, feels the steady thud of his heart. “It’s time you had someone to make you feel good, to take care of you and be good to you. And that’s what we’re going to do. For as long as you let us do it.”

“I’m starting to think you two might well and truly be stuck with me,” Squip jokes with a little laugh, voice still rough with tears. “I was on my way out of here but now that Michael’s gotten his hands on me, I’m afraid I’m quite addicted.”

“A common complaint, I’m enthralling.” Michael chuckles and curls closer, his hand finding Jeremy’s. Together, they lay their hands over the thump of Squip’s heartbeat, the three of them sighing in unison as a warm blanket of comfort settles over them.

Squip closes his eyes and just breathes, exhausted and wired at the same time. “Will you stay the night?”

“Of course we will.” Jeremy is probably angling to explore the rest of Squip’s house, but for some reason, that idea doesn’t bother Squip at all. There’s nothing that he doesn’t want to share with the two of them. Not anymore. “Do you need another nap?”

“No,” Squip answers after a moment of thought. “I just want to lie here a while. Hold me?”

“Yeah, sweetheart.” Michael peeks up at him, his eyes shining with affection. “For as long as you want. Always.”

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think! I love reading you guys' comments, especially as we're heading in a new direction!
> 
> Feel free to swing by my discord server and say hello, I'd love to see you there! 
> 
> https://discord.gg/Q4BTUkv


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